#day4scorpio

[emmaekay]

KEIYAKU IV for TPTH Vegebul Smutfest

AN: Keiyaku is almost 10,000 words long! Are you okay? Do you need a drink? It’s important to stay hydrated. I’m humbled by the response to K and I’m so glad everyone seems to be enjoying it. Every reblog, like and comment gives me new life and even more reason to continue this! There will be a minimum of 7 parts, one for every prompt of the @tpthvegebulsmutfest

Day 4 – Scorpio

Bulma looked nothing like a Saiyan. That was problem one. In order to get her in a pod and off planet, the pod had to recognize the Saiyan. Each pod was calibrated to an individual Saiyan – for suspended animation terms, for life support sequences, for weight distribution and a million other things. Under ordinary circumstances, Vegeta would have bought a pod off a Saiyan of similar height and weight, and sent Bulma on her way.

But Bulma was not a Saiyan. Could he just grab a pod keyed to an adolescent around her size? Would that be adequate to support her long enough to get her home? Or would he just be sending her off into space with a pod that couldn’t keep her alive?

Queen Pea had yet to declare the day or terms of the antefasting battle, and a week had gone by. Daily Vegeta came up with a new plan, and daily he thought of a thousand reasons it wouldn’t work. He would have to consult someone with more technological expertise than he – but who could be trusted?

For her part, Bulma was going stir-crazy. Vegeta took his father’s tirade to heart, or at least the part where the King had pointed out the fact that any number of Saiyan women who had hoped to catch his hand may well kill Bulma. Challenges were issued frequently and fought bloodily every day in Saiyan society. It wasn’t illegal to kill an opponent who slighted your honor; it wasn’t even frowned upon. Because of this, Bulma was kept on the estate and spent most of her time in Vegeta’s royal residence.

Vegeta had not assumed any of his royal duties – did not take visitors, did not hear peasant pleas, did not adjudicate spats or honor matches. He was supposed to, of course, he was always supposed to. But he never had. The moment he reached the age of independence, Vegeta entered an arena fight and won. He went off planet and fought in every match, fight, tournament and exhibition he could find. He trained on every planet that interested him and made enemies – and a very few allies – on every one of them. He had killed as many people as he had saved, and nearly died a few times. He ran the galaxy wild and neither parent interfered. The King and Queen summoned him regularly, and he responded irregularly. When he was near, when he felt like it, when he missed other Saiyans.

So, mostly, Vegeta just hung around. He trained with Nappa and once or twice with his father, who could still kick the tar out of him. It felt… almost good to lose again. To discover there was still room to improve. To hope that one day, he’d grind his father’s bones beneath his boots. But mostly, he spent his time with Bulma – he learned her history and shared his, he learned her body and shared his. Still, she wouldn’t tell him exactly what she wished for from the Earth’s dragon to wind up nude, in his lap, light years from home.

And he obsessed about ways to get her out of the antefasting battle, or off the planet. He could take her himself, but that would mean exile on pain of death and the loss of his title and the right to assume the throne. That, he couldn’t do. And he couldn’t let Bulma die.

 ******

“You summoned me, Highness?” Daiku stood taller than Nappa and had a shock of hair jutting up at all angles from his head, great black unruly tufts that had never met a brush they couldn’t break. He stood in the doorway of Vegeta’s sitting room, and waited until Vegeta waved him in.

“Daiku. You’ve been off planet many times, you’ve a great many pods that your partners, woman and daughters travel in.”

“Yes, highness?” Daiku frowned. The prince was nearing his 30th year and he would need to choose a fasting partner soon. It couldn’t be that the prince wished for one of his daughters? His oldest would reach the age of independence, soon, but she was barely into her 18th sun cycle. His fasted woman, Beri, worked in Vegeta’s house as the royal dressing woman – she had cared for Vegeta and his guests for some 10 cycles, but surely she was older than he preferred and … and he would not part with Beri for any sum, on any pain. And what about pods?

“I’m in need of a pod, Daiku.”

“Your highness has many pods. Why should you need mine? Why do you ask of my woman and daughters?”

“I need to send a woman off planet. She is smaller than your oldest daughter and … and she is not a Saiyan. The woman is a scientist and feels confident that she can modify a pod that is already set for a woman similar to her size. This has weighed on me greatly and your Beri suggested I come to you and ask to purchase, or to trade for anything in my possession, the pod you have prepared for your oldest daughter’s 19th cycle.”

Daiku sat down at this, and put a hand under his chin. “And your highness isn’t purchasing a pod through the spacefaring authority for a reason.”

“This is… not against the crown, but not something it should approve of either. I have declared this woman as my choice for the fasting and the King and Queen have agreed – “

“But that is a joyous event, Highness! Why would you send her away?” Daiku exclaimed – nothing in this conversation made any sense – the prince had chosen a partner, and the King and Queen had approved! There should be an honorable battle and a great feast.

Vegeta clicked his teeth. Daiku wouldn’t understand until he saw the problem. “BULMA.”

“Can you not shriek at me?” Bulma burst through the door, ready to tear the prince a new one when she saw the giant guest sitting in the chair across from him. “Oh. Uh, hello.”

“Daiku, Bulma. Bulma, Daiku. She is the woman.”

Immediately, Daiku understood a little better what motivated the prince to send her away. She was tiny and while she was pleasing to look upon, she couldn’t stand up to his toddler – let alone a melee of men or women in the antefasting battle. She would die. Daiku scratched under his chin and considered the situation. He himself was the arena battle champion of Vegetasei.

“Come along with me, Bulma,” Daiku said at last. Vegeta rose from his seat, from body sprawled languidly across a couch to standing tall (relatively) with fists balled at his side. “She is not a possession I can trade.”

“Uh, I’m not a fuckin’ possession,” Bulma interjected, “at all. And who the fuck are you? And what the fuck is going on?”

Daiku laughed, a giant, mountain crumbling sound. “Are you certain, highness, that you must send her away? She is small and she is weak, but look at her pride.” He chuckled again, at these children so up in arms for themselves, for each other. “Please calm yourself, Prince Vegeta. I will swear upon my honor never to touch her – not in lust or in anger, so long as you live.”

Vegeta’s body went crashing down to the couch again, sprawled over it in his previous position, as if he had never moved. Evidently, an honor bound promise was a deep commitment and Vegeta was satisfied by it.

“My name is Daiku, Lady Bulma, and my fasted one has told me much about you,” he said, studying her. “She also left out much. The Prince has bade me smuggle you off planet and I have heard that you can modify our technology. I was only inviting you to stay in our home for the time it will take you to modify a pod. I have ascertained,” he continued, “that his Highness wishes this endeavor to remain secret from the crown, and so cannot take place here.”

Vegeta grunted in agreement.

“Vegeta and I have discussed this,” Bulma spat, “at length and I don’t intend to flee! I’m where I’m supposed to be, Vegeta.” She turned to him now, “And you will stop trying to send me away.” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “I am staying!”

“You. Will. Die.” Vegeta growled at her, for the fortieth time in the week. “I have told you again and again that you will be killed as certain as you stand before me if you attempt to go through with the antefasting battle. I have told you again and again that I do not wish to see that.” “Then close your fucking eyes.” Bulma stood before him, hands on her hips, one legged jutted out at an angle. Take me to the man I’m destined to be with! Her words to the dragon rang in her head. Bulma believed in fate. Bulma believed in destiny.

“Bulma, I will fold you up and put you in the fucking pod myself.” Vegeta rose again and stepped in her direction. Daiku noticed that the woman did not shrink, did not falter. She leaned into her posture, and stuck her tongue out at him. “Try it.”

Again, Daiku’s laugh split the house, and the tension, in two. Both Vegeta and Bulma glared at him ferociously, which only made him laugh harder.

“My Lord,” he began, wiping a tear from one eye, “would your time be better spent training the woman into a warrior than attempting to send her away? Even if I allowed her to modify one of my pods, she would like as not reprogram it to come back and land directly on this house.” Another bout of furious laughter rocked the furniture, and this time Bulma joined in. She would have done exactly that – if not on the house, on the castle.

Vegeta stared at them both as if they were completely mad, and strode out of the room before the madness caught him, too. He stomped away, lip twitching into an unbidden smile while Daiku and Bulma laughed even harder.

 ****

Daiku collected Beri and left, but not before giving Bulma some parting advice. “Stand your ground. Never sacrifice your pride. Train – you may be stronger than you think.”

Bulma puttered around the grounds, reading some of the books from Vegeta’s library, admiring the flowers in the castle’s garden, until the sun set. She busied herself after dark, making herself new lingerie and attempting to cook in the residence’s kitchen – one endeavor going quite well, the other… not so much. Eventually, the royal chef stepped in and made dinner for Bulma and the prince.

The prince was still sulking in his bedchamber, door locked. He hated being laughed at, and he hated when his plans went awry. Both had happened to him today and he was full of frustration.

“Vegeta?” Bulma’s voice at his door. “Vegeta, dinner.”

He paced to the door and flung it wide, hauling the woman inside. “Dinner? Looks delicious.” He nibbled her neck and Bulma giggled. “Seriously, food’s on the table, come on.” She tried to pull their bodies apart, but he pulled her closer and slid one hand down the back of her pants. “I know you’re mad about earlier, but I wasn’t laughing at you – really, neither was Daiku. I think –“

“I don’t care what you think, and I don’t care what you were laughing at. You’ve wounded my pride. How will you repair it?” He gripped her round ass in one hand, and took her hand in the other, navigating it down into the swelling in his pants.

“Oh, I have an idea.” Bulma smirked and dropped to her knees before him. She kissed his member once through the fabric before tugging it down and releasing him.

“Mm, it’s a good idea…” he muttered as she cupped his balls in one soft hand, licking the base of his shaft, running her wet little tongue around and around him, working her way from the base to the tip, slowly, before engulfing him completely. He groaned and swore as she took all of him into her mouth, running her tongue along the underside and keeping an excruciating pressure on him as she moved her mouth up and down the length.

“Mmm,” Bulma moaned as he began to knead her neck and shoulders with his strong hands before running them through her hair and back again. She worked him, wet mouth and cool, soft hand together, first slowly and then, as he began to tense before his release, more and more quickly. Before the frenzied pace tipped him over the edge, Vegeta bent his knees and scooped her off the floor, dislodging himself from her mouth with the tiniest pop.

He laid her on the bed and laid opposite of her, crooking one leg over her head as she crooked one leg over his. “I’m starving,” he growled before burying his face between her thighs, the fingers of one hand pumping in and out of her as he devoured her sweetness and she resumed her attentions on him. She was dripping wet, like the most delicious over-ripe fruit he had ever tasted. Her hips began to quake underneath him and he could feel her tenderness quivering under his tongue. The sounds she made – he would eat her entirely, the way she carried on and spurred him forward.

Underneath him, Bulma continued licking, sucking, fondling him. She relished the way he groaned, the way she could feel him in her mouth, jumping and throbbing. He was close to the edge and so was she when suddenly he thrust his fingers in deep and sucked hard on her clitoris, and she came in his mouth and around his hand. As she cried out, she pulled him deeper into her mouth and squeezed his shaft with her tongue. He came and she swallowed, still running her tongue on the underside of him and tickling his balls gently as she continued to suck him until he growled and lost his grip on her ass – he threw his head back and rumbled deeply.

Finished, she swiveled around and snuggled against him. “Ready to go have dinner?”

 “No thanks, I just ate,” he chuckled in her ear.

[jonahwhalesw1]

Personal Connection- Ch. 4 (Scorpio)

This is my submission for Day 4 of the @tpthvegebulsmutfest !  Sorry, it’s so late and that the rest of the prompts won’t make the 24th deadline, but I’m still going to continue posting them and finish this story.  I will also be posting the story in full to Ao3.  So enjoy!  Last chapter, Vegeta kept his promise to rock Bulma’s world day and night, but what happens the next morning?  And how bad is a scorpion’s sting?

“Good Morning, West City!  We’re looking at yet another fantastic day!  Blue skies and plenty of sunshine so be sure to get out doors as much as you can and enjoy the day!  Moving on, in breaking news this hour…”

He tuned out listening as the radio broadcaster moved on from the only thing he was really paying attention to for the morning.  Good weather means practice was going to go as usual today and he couldn’t wait to get back on the field and try his swing again.  Training for the Androids was going great he thought, but it was also stressful.  As much as he thought he was improving, there was the nagging feeling of ‘Is it enough?’ So he’d contacted his old coach to see if he could join the team for practice today and get some much needed down time.  A few hours playing baseball wouldn’t hurt, right?  Yamcha hummed to himself as he picked up the newspaper and flipped through it to get to the sports section.  He wanted to studying up on the more recent stats of his old team, didn’t want to get shown up by any of the rookies if he could help it.

Headlines were usual; Government this, Officials that, blah, blah, blah.  Not sports, flip.  Oooh, Horoscopes.  Okay, his for starters…Pisces, ‘Your intuition, imagination, and insight have served you well on the job, and should pay off soon. A raise, commission, or perhaps a chance to invest in the company could be offered to you. Your self-esteem will definitely receive a boost! You might also find that you’re growing even more intuitive than usual, and people are looking up to you because of it. Give yourself a pat on the back. You deserve it.’  Well, don’t mind if I do, he grinned.  Okay, now he signed with the team on November 2 so next was Scorpio, ‘Rely on your intuition instead of waiting for your rational mind to decide. Your head may have been swarming with conflicting ideas yesterday, but the answer should be clear today. Just tune into your gut feeling and make your decision.’  That boded well for training with the team.  Flip.  Flip. Aha, there.  Sports.  He picked up the section…and saw the Entertainment section’s main headline underneath.  ‘Capsule Corp Heiress Hot And Heavy With New Man’.  The letters were massive, he couldn’t help but see them…the paparazzi-caught picture underneath.  Bulma looking really sexy in her business attire, must have had a meeting or something, standing outside a restaurant, hand in hand, with—

“Son of a bitch!” Yamcha recognized the flame of black hair and royal scowl immediately.

He dropped the sports section and poured over the article about Bulma and Vegeta.  His darting eyes soaking up every word:

‘Capsule Corp Heiress Bulma Briefs is single no more.  A month after her breakup with baseball player Yamcha Rekishiyoma of the Taitans, she was seen at stylish restaurant Gabu with a mysterious new man. It is reported that the couple snuggled in close together as they ate bacon cheeseburgers and fries…’

Snuggled?!  Her and Vegeta of all people!

‘…Talking intimately the entire time…’

What?!  What the hell could they have to talk about?!  A new drone for him to blow up?!  Destroying the Gravity Room yet again?!  Threatening to kill her and blow up the planet?!

‘…After an hour long lunch, they left the restaurant holding hands…’

Holding…No!

‘…On the sidewalk, her alluring new man went in for another close moment then literally swept her off her feet, flying with the Heiress off to who knows where to do who knows what. Wink, wink.’

Yamcha dropped the paper and ran out of the nearest door.  The one to his apartment’s balcony.  He instantly jumped into the air and flew off for Capsule Corp himself. Screw practice, screw training because that murdering bastard was…was…

*                      *                      *

The movement woke Vegeta, but he didn’t let it on.  It was kind of cute to feel her tiny little body wriggling beneath his, trying to get out from underneath him.  She huffed and puffed as she shifted this way and that and little by little made her way out from under him.  He tried very hard to suppress his grin and continue to play asleep as he listened to her.

“Shit,” she hissed in a whisper, “Saiyan log.”

A chuckle very nearly escaped his chest.  No, the Saiyan log is what’s between your legs. Gods, he had to fight to keep the smile off his face.

She continued to struggle.  Pushing and shoving at his body, but Vegeta refused to make it easier for her.  Finally, he decided to help her a little.  He shifted his center of gravity ever so slightly and it was enough for her to finally heave on of his arms, shifting the limb just a little.

“Yes,” he allowed himself a slight grin, figuring she wasn’t looking at him as she cheered herself and kept pushing on his arm.  He put the grin away and replaced it with a stony, ‘sleeping’ face as she started to wriggle again, apparently thinking she had shifted his arm just enough away from her body to allow her to scoot her body up and out.  She wriggled again, tried to scoot…the gasp rattled through her.

“Oh my Kami, you fell asleep still inside me.”

He grinned to himself…then he heard a soft chuckle come from her.  The sound was the most beautiful thing he could ever wake up to.

“Good boy,” she laughed.  “But I have to.”  She sighed and scoot again.

He felt himself slip out of her just a little.

“Aw, shit,” she giggled to herself, “I’m wet again.”

He pursed his lips tight, trying to maintain his façade of deep sleep, but inside his was laughing as much as she was.  I’m hard again.

She scooted again. He slipped out of her a little more again.

“Shit,” she gasped, “Even in your sleep, you feel so fucking good.  Kami, you’re the best.”

Damn right, he gloated to himself.

She scooted.  He slipped out a little more.  Scooted.  Slipped. Scooted.  He fell out of her gently, the tip of his head slipping down her entrance before landing on the warm softness of her bed.  Vegeta felt his shoulders slump, it didn’t compare to how warm and soft it was inside her.  Her womanhood was the perfect home for his manhood, falling asleep inside her had convinced him of that.  He couldn’t remember when he’d slept so well, so peacefully, and Vegeta realized it was because he never had peace before, never felt so absolutely safe and secure that he could let himself drift into sleep so deeply.  As deeply as he had been inside her before falling asleep.  He still couldn’t believe that he had made love to her twice.  There had been wild bouts of fucking each other senseless in between, but still…Vegeta had made love to Bulma twice!  What the hell had he been thinking?!  She scooted again and suddenly her hip was at his lips.  He wanted to kiss it.  Wanted lavish the velvet skin with his kisses and licks of his rough tongue.  She shifted and the plump, luscious flesh of one of her ass cheeks pressed against his lips.  He couldn’t stop the low growl rumble through his chest.  Fuck, he wanted to drag his teeth across her perfect, little ass.  She scooted again, and was gone from him.  He wanted to reach out and yank her back, hike her leg back up, thrust his stiffening cock in her, and keep thrusting until they both begged for mercy. He chanced opening an eye just a bit and his gaze was met by the back of her thighs.  Gods, every part of this woman turned him on, made him want to do things to her.  She scooted and wriggled again.  He was eyeing the back of her calves.  Another wriggle, another scoot.  And she was free of him and slipping gently across the rest of her large bed.  He shut his eye as she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  It shifted slightly and he knew she was walking away from him.

He heard a gasp leave her…and hissing, pressure on the bouncy mattress.  He opened his eye just a little again and saw her maybe a step away from the bed.  Her hand on the bed for support as she bent over.  Her eyes were wide and she was trying not to breath hard.  Vegeta felt his chest clench.  Something was wrong with her.  She took a deep breath and took a step.  Her leg wobbled, another step with the aid of the bed, and that leg wobbled as she put her weight on it.

“Oh Kami,” she giggled to herself again, “I can’t fucking walk.”

He smirked proudly. His chest easing and his balls clenching.

She kept taking wobbly step after wobbly step.  Looking like a newborn fawn.  “Oh my Kami,” she squeaked and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Even only getting a side view of her from the bed, he could see her eyes were sparkling with amusement and amazement. Well, what had she expected when she demanded that he satisfy her?  He kept watching her until she was beyond his sight as he maintained his façade.  He heard the gentle padding of her feet finally making contact with the undoubtedly cold tile of her bathroom floor…then he heard the bathroom door close as softly as a whisper.

He closed his eye and felt just how plush her bed was.  Although he admitted he didn’t think she’d accept reclining in anything other than luxury.  He brought his arms up under the fluffy pillow beneath him and held it tight to the side of his face.  He turned his face a little and inhaled deeply.  It smelled like her sweat…like his too.  He laid the side of his face back on it as the sound of her faucet being turned and the low rumble of water passing through the pipes in the wall as her shower started.  Vegeta sniffed the air.  The smell of their joined musk was still in the air even with the balcony doors still open. He reached down beside him and brought the bedsheet up.  The moment he gripped the fabric and lifted, the intense smell from between the sheets hit him.  The bed reeked of their sweat and cum.  Gods, it was enough to snap his eyes wide open.  Surely it would gag the Mother when she came in to change the dirty sheets yet again.  She may be insanely happy all the time, but even he had to admit that she was by no means stupid or ignorant of the ways of carnal behavior considering she had a child. She would know immediately what the Hell they had done.  And she would have a fair guess at how much of it they had done.

Vegeta rolled over and sat up.  Gods, the scent wafted up to him with every move he made.  He could smell her cum on his crotch, smell his own there two, and sweat. Holy shit, he was drenched in their scent.  It filled his nostrils.  He couldn’t escape it…

Did he want to though? Did he want to get out of this bed that permeated with their scent?  Did he want to walk away from this room and no longer smell of her so thoroughly it was like she coated his skin like lotion?

Vegeta looked over at the closed bathroom door as he ran a hand over his face.

*                      *                      *

Bulma stepped under the hot water and let it wash over…soak her hair…pelt her skin like a masseuse…Ahhh, it felt great.  She lowered her face from the water stream and reached out for her bright pink loofa sponge.  She held it against her chest, letting it start getting wet, while she decided which of her assortment of body washes she wanted to use today.  Suddenly she felt familiar rough hands slid gently over her stomach.

“I thought you didn’t like it when my cock wasn’t in you,” he purred lusciously in her ear.

Bulma grinned as he pressed his body against her back.  She leaned into him.  His muscles seemed to fold in around her.  He liked her doing that apparently, she reminded herself to do that as often as she could to feel him do this to her as often as he could.

“I don’t,” she said and his chest vibrated against her back with his growl.  She felt his cock stiffen a little where he’d pressed against her butt crack.

He nuzzled her behind her ear, that always sent a thrill up her spine that made her whole body tingle with arousal, “I like the strawberry one.”

“What?”  She was enjoying him touching her, nuzzling her way too much.  Bullshit, there was never too much.  She laid her head back against his shoulder.

“I like it when you smell like the strawberry and cream one.”

Oh, my bath wash.  “I thought you liked me walking around like the new scent you gave me, the one that drives other men away from me.”

Another growl escaped his mouth by her ear so close she shuddered from how much it turned her on to hear it so close and primal like that.  His fingers bent and she felt the tips of his nails drag over her stomach. Her legs trembled slightly, Oh fuck, I’m wet again.

“That’s for them,” she could practically hear his lips peeling back to reveal his sharp canines; her legs trembled again, Oh so fucking wet, “The strawberries and cream are for me. It reminds me of your breasts,” he looked down over her shoulder and saw perfect little nips of luscious bright red berry peaking out from a plush bed of cream.  He felt his cock harden, So fucking perfect.

“Your cream,” she asked.

“Yours, Vulgar Woman.  Your creamy flesh,” he breathed that last word before licking up her jawline.

“Oh fuck,” her hips bucked, rubbing her sweet ass cheeks against his hardened member pressing against her.

“I’ll get to that after I clean you.”  He purred.

He moved his nose to her wet hair and sniffed. “Your hair smells like salt.  We need to fix that.”

She lifted her head as he reached forward.  He put his hand on one of the bottles, not one of the body washes but a shampoo. She felt him turn his head to look at her.

“This one,” he asked, watching her.

“No,” she said.

Vegeta moved his hand from the purple bottle to a yellow one.

“This one?”

“No,” she smiled.  He smiled, she was catching on to his game.

He moved his hand at last to the pink bottle.  Strawberries and cream shampoo.

“This one?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Mmmm, strawberry.” He hummed.

She laughed as he plucked the bottle from the shelf.

She laughed as he plucked the bottle from the shelf.  He flipped the cap and lifted it over her head, she trusted him enough to think that he wasn’t going to dump a ridiculous amount on her head like a cruel joke.  Vegeta squeezed out a quarter-sized amount of the pink creamy gel onto her teal hair then capped the bottle, and put it back on the shelf.  Bulma lifted a hand to her hair, but before it could reach into her hair, Vegeta’s hand was there to take it away.  She went back to holding her loofa to her chest as he placed his hands on the top of her head and ran them down.  That’s not what she expected.  She felt him smear the gel over as much of her hair as he could with sweet tender pets. Her eyes widened, what the hell? But…his touch was so gentle, yet thorough.  He laced his fingers up through her hair…then around it…then Vegeta’s fingers began massaging her scalp until he worked up a lather.  She smiled and let the feeling of his tender care relax her…and simultaneously turn her on even more for him.  He was taking care of her and few men realized the absolute turn on that was. When he was sure her hair was clean, he leaned by her ear.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.  She did.  He placed one hand at the back of her head and tipped it forward into the hot water.

His fingers worked diligently, intricately, tenderly to help the water rinse the shampoo from her hair.  Bulma luxuriated in the warm water and the warm attentions until Vegeta was content that every last bit of soap had been cleansed from her beautiful, soft hair.  Then his hand slipped under her chin and lifted her head out of the water.  Then his other hand dabbed at her face with a soft, dry cloth until she opened her eyes.  His lips were at her ear again.

“Clean?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded.

He put the washcloth on the shelf.  She watched again as his hand found the pink bottle of body wash and pulled it out of the lineup.  He flipped the cap and lifted it to the loofa at her chest, he squeezed out some of the clear pink gel onto the pink mesh then capped the bottle and put it back on the shelf.  Bulma started to mover her fingers around the pink mesh, but before she could work it into a lather, Vegeta’s hands were there to take it away.

“No, I clean you.”

He took one of her hands in his and guided it up to behind his head and left it there.  He switched the loofa to his other hand.  He took her other hand in his and guided it too to behind his head and left it there.

“I clean you.”

“Oh, okay.”  She got it now, Bulma laced her fingers together at the back of his neck and looked down at her own body.  She watched him work the pink mesh slowly into a lather.  Then he pressed against her chest and squeezed.  Pink-tinted white foam squished out and slipped over her breasts.  Her breathing hitched while his remained steady although it definitely did not escape her notice that his cock was a rock now.  One of his hands scrubbed the loofa gentle over one breast while his other slipped over her other breast.  She writhed.  He cupped her, ran his fingers over her suds covered, pert nipple…pinched it softly between his fingers…his thumb caressing it slowly.  She closed her legs, squeezing them tight together.  “Oh Kami,” she gasped.

The loofa switched hands.  Soft, soapy mesh scrubbing gently of her already aroused breast while his other hand cupped the cleaned breast.  His fingers slowly caress her nipple to hardening.  She squeezed her legs tighter.  Biting her lip.  Unable to hold back the moan.  He pinched her nipple gently and her hips bucked, rubbing his excruciating cock between her plump ass cheeks again.  He groaned. His thumb rubbing her nipple.

“Fuck,” she gasped. Hips bucking again, she wanted him so bad right now.  He groaned, his fingers gripping her breast for a moment until the sensation eased enough for him to continue.

He moved the loofa down over her smooth, flat stomach.  Scrubbing gently while his hand rubbed the suds into her skin.  He moved and moved until her stomach as clean. Every scratch of mesh over her supple skin, every caress building and building the yearning between her legs. Then the loofa and his hand went down, down, down, she felt them at her crotch.  The hot suds squeezing over her curly teal hairs there.  His hand threaded through them, rubbing, until he tried to put his hand between her legs and she refused to budge.

“It’s alright,” he told her.

She shook her head.

“Yes, it is. Now open your legs.”

“If I open them, I won’t be able to close them.”

He knew what she meant and he smiled tenderly at her.  Vegeta closed his eyes and leaned his head against hers.  “I trust you.”

She knew what that meant for him to say those words to her.  Words he’s probably never spoken to another being in his life, not even himself. She parted her legs bit by bit.  Kami, she wanted him there so bad.  His hand slipped in swiftly, not wanting to prolong her torment.  He rubbed the soap over her lips, noting how they trembled with her legs before withdrawing his hand.

He pushed his body just a bit more against hers and urged her under the water.  She followed his lead and the still hot water washed away the soap from her body.  He dropped the loofa and she watched and felt his hands slip and slide over her body as he helped the water wash away the foam.

“Kami, I want to cum.” She whimpered.

“I’ll help you with that in a few minutes.”

She whimpered as he removed her hands form behind his neck.  He turned her around to face him.  Her body flush with more than just the heat of the water and the glow of cleanliness.

“Now—”

“Can I clean you,” she blurted out desperately.  Kami, she wanted to run her hands over his ripped body at least.

He nodded, “Now you clean me.”  He finished saying.

“Oh thank Kami,” she breathed and he smiled.

She put her hands over his biceps, worshipping them with her touch and her eyes, salivating at them for a moment before slowly turning her and Vegeta around so that they’d switched places.  Her hands went to his chest.  Those pectorals, she bit her lip again, she loved how his chest had pressed against her breasts when he laid on her, rubbed against her breasts when he moved over, in her. A rattling exhale escaped her.

“You’re drooling, Woman.”  His voice was condemning, but his face was all cocky-as-hell smirk and his cock…

“Uhnn, my mouth isn’t the only thing dripping wet.”

This time it was his breathing that hitched.  His chest was heaving now.  Her fingertips gently pushed him back and he stepped.  The water cascaded down his body.  Slipping over every luscious, deeply etched line of him.  She licked her lips, suddenly thirsty as hell.  He growled.  She looked up at his face and his eyes were half-lidded and blazing with fire at her.  Kami, they were both really horny.  Her eyes watched the water weight down the flame of his hair…fall down the lines of his face…neck…collarbone…pecs…oh, fuck those abs (I could go for a six-pack right now)…finally streaming along his erect rod and dripping off it.  She squeezed her eyes shut.  Legs shut. Looking away.  She had to calm down.

“Calm down, calm down,” he soothed and dare not touch her.  He was barely holding on by a thread himself.  Seeing her barely able to keep her hands off him, fighting the undoubtedly severe urge to jump and ride him until she lost her voice…till he lost his voice.  “Bulma—”

“Don’t say that right now.  I’m gonna cum if you say it again.”  She held her hand up to silence him as she struggled to regain control of herself.

“What the fuck do you think I’m going to do if you don’t stop looking like that?  Do have any idea how much I want throw you up against the wall and take you until it’s ground to dust behind you?  Then throw you on the ground and pound you until I can’t breathe?  How about wanting to crawl out of here on our hands and knees and doing you sore on the floor of this bathroom?  Grinding you into the carpet right outside the door?  How about ending up right back in your bed and making love to you until the fucking thing shatters?!”

She stared at him. Eyes wide and clear.  She pointed at the shelf of bottles behind him—

“Is that…?”

He nodded without looking back,

“When did you bring a bottle of your shampoo and body wash and your own loofa in here?”

“I told you that I came in here before I went to meet you.”

She took a deep bracing breath then stepped closer to him, she saw him brace himself as well.  With a trembling hand, she reached past him and took up his royal blue sponge and the grey bottle of body wash.  She opened it, squeezed a dollop of white, creamy gel on the sponge, closed the bottle, and put it back on the shelf.  She pulled the sponge to her and rubbed her fingers over it until it frothed with a clean yet musky smell.  She looked up at him…was that admiration she saw in his eyes? For what?  The ability to control herself while standing in a hot shower with the sexiest fucking man she’s ever seen in her life after he just told her all the ways he wanted to fuck her into a coma after they showered together? …Okay, so yeah, that’s pretty damn admirable of her.

A mischevious grin crossed her face, she bit her lip again, and pressed the loofa to his ripped chest…and squeezed.  She watched the foam seep over him…down him…clinging to then dripping off his cock. She licked her lips again, “Sooo creamy,” she purred.

“Gods dammit Woman! I told you not to do that.”

“Nooo, you told me to stop looking like that, I’m looking at you now.”  She giggled.

Suddenly he reached out and yanked her against his body. She gasped, stunned in his arms. He stared right into her eyes, “Don’t tempt me.”

She leaned closer, “Don’t tempt me, what?”

She could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his cock pressing against her.  He could probably feel her heartbeat raging in her core, she sure as hell could.

“I’m not saying it, Woman.”

Bulma looked away from him, putting a pout on her face as she watched herself move the scrub over his perfect chest.

“I could make you,” she warned, her hands slipping the lather of suds over his skin.

“You could try.”  He watched her tensely.  “I know the game you’re playing, Woman, I did it to you just a moment ago.”

“Your hands all over my body.”

“Yes.”

“And I was helpless,” her eyes rose to meet his.

He worked his mouth, mulling it over shortly, before nodding.  He lifted his hands and balled his fists behind his head.  Surrendering to her the way he’d guided her to do for him.  “You clean me.”

The scrub moved, slowly tracing playful designs over his chest, her hands lathering the suds of his pectorals.  Her touch was like lightning.  Vegeta’s skin tingled while a storm raged in his chest.  He hadn’t been kidding about nearly cumming just watching her squeezing her legs shut and refusing to look at him.  To think that she couldn’t handle his touch anymore, that she wanted to feel him inside her again so badly…it was intoxicating, addicting.

Her hand and the scrub moved lower…lightning zinged through each muscle of his abs.  How he wished it was her lips?  Those soft, plump, pink lips of hers.  The matching set to the soft, plump, pink lips between her legs.  He groaned as one of her nails suddenly trailed on his skin.

She didn’t look up at him as her hand and the scrub went lower…Fuck, he bit his own lip. She was going there, going there the way he had.

“It’s alright,” her voice was soothing.

“I trust you,” he repeated quietly.

The scrub slipped down the plunging vee of his lower abdomen…and along the shaft of her rock hard cock.

“Fuck,” he gasped. His cock throbbed.  His cock throbbed so bad for her.  Any part of her.

She answered his prayers.  Her hand lathered the white foam over his shaft and head with swiftly, minimized his arousal as much as she could just like he had.  Then she dropped his loofa as her fingertips gently pushed against his chest.  He stepped back again and the water washed over his chiseled body.  Her hands helped it sluice the foam away from his caramel skin…she felt fantastic.

“I’m aching for you.”

“I’ll help you with that when I’m done with your hair.”

He lowered his hands as she reached past him again.  Vegeta admired her restraint, he hadn’t realized she had any when he first came to Earth, but the more time he spent around her, observing her, he realized she was a creature of restraint.  She teased, she played, but she held herself back.  And now, she teased him with her touch, she played with him with her laughter, but when she was so close to him, she kept herself from the raging desire consuming both of them.

Her reach brought back his bottle of shampoo.  He dipped his head back and the water poured down the back of his head, rewetting his hair as she flipped the bottle’s cap.  She balanced delicately on the tip of her toes and poured a few dollops of mint green, creamy gel onto his doused black flame.  She recapped the bottle and put it back.  She balanced on tips of her toes and ran her hands through his hair…and lost her balance.  She rose on tiptoes again…and again eventually lost her balance.

She was struggling and his hands went out to hold her hips.  She stared at him for a moment then nodded.

“I trust you,” she told him.

One of his hands slipped off her hip and down the back of her thigh to hike up on of her legs over his hip…then he reached behind her with his other hand and lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he held her as her fingers smother the gel over his head then working her fingers through his hair…massaging his scalp with firm pressure, nails sending surprise thrills down his spine whenever they made contact his scalp. When she was sure she’d got his hair as clean as she could, Bulma smoother her hand over Vegeta’s forehead.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered and he obeyed.

She gently tipped his head back.  Her hands and fingers worked through his hair again helping the water rinse the dirty suds away.  He let his shoulders sag under her pleasant, tender attentions.  Kindness, it was pure kindness.  Pure care.  What she’s always shown him.  Shrieking temper aside, she’d never done anything to harm him, not ever.  At first he thought she was tricking him, lulling him into a false sense of security before going in for a strike to bring him down, but that strike never came, he just woke up to her maintaining vigil at his bedside after some reckless behavior blown both him and the Gravity Room to smithereens.  He had baffled him that he would wake up to her by his side…then she kept taking care of him.  Every cut, every bruise, every ache and pain, she was there with bandages, there with ice packs, there with healing salve that soothed his body…and her smile and bright eyes soothed his soul.  She’d become a sanctuary to him.  He found solace in her presence…in her voice…in everything about her.  She lifted his head back up.  His heart pounded in his ears.

“Clean,” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Finally,” he breathed, turned, and two steps later his hands provided cushion as her back hit the wall, they kissed with all the passion they’d been denying themselves.

“Inside, Vegeta, inside,” she gasped.

One pelvic thrust and he was into her waiting, spread core to the hilt.

“Ahhh, yes,” Bulma moaned putting her forehead against his.

And Vegeta kept thrusting and thrusting and thrusting.  Bulma’s lips found his and devoured him hungrily.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” she moaned with each move.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” he grunted with her.

Their lips brushing against each other.  Their breaths puffing over each other’s mouths.  Her legs tightened around him.  A hand slipping into the hair at the back of his head, the other gripping his shoulderblade.  One of his hands tightened it’s grip on one of her plump ass cheeks, the other threading it’s fingers into her teal hair, cupping the back of her skull.

“Uhnn, Vegeta.”

“My Bulma.”

*                      *                      *

His feet landed on the grounds of Capsule Corp for the first time in months.  Yamcha still wasn’t sure how he was going to get in, he’d flown out of his apartment so fast that he’d forgotten the spare set of keys that would have let him in without having to ring for someone first…Her balcony!

Yamcha flew up and around until he spotted her balcony…and his.  That murdering, evil bastard’s room was right next to hers.  Was that how he’d moved in on her?  Worked on her when Yamcha wasn’t around?  How had he come sniffing around Bulma?...Or had he just taken what he’d wanted one night then Bulma was so traumatized by it that she convinced herself that he had feelings for her rather than admit to herself what really had happened?  Yamcha’s fists clenched.  Was that it? Or was Vegeta using Bulma to keep getting free stuff and the free ride—immediately the image of Vegeta bouncing a helpless Bulma on his crotch while she screamed and begged to get away from the homicidal maniac’s sadistic grin haunted his thoughts.  My poor Bulma!  Yamcha dove for her balcony.

*                      *                      *

“Oh Kami, Vegeta, you’re always so good to me.” Bulma moaned as his tongue and lips made the most sinful meal out of her neck.  With every thrust, his tongue worked magic over her pulse and her nails dug into his luscious, caramel skin.  “More, uhnn, more.”

He picked up his past and her body shuddered.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed with every thrust.

He buried his face in her neck and just focused on slipping himself deeper and deeper into her faster and faster.

“Uhnn, Vege-, ah, ah, ah, Ve-, ah, Ve-, ah, Fuck, ah, ah, Ve-, Ve-,”

Words failed her again.  They always did with him.  He loved hearing his name die on her voice, replaced with agonizing moans as her body tightened with his.  His balls were wrung tight so much so that he’d thought he’d cum just by entering her. Her walls gripped with him with sticky desperation.  Even now he could feel them tremble against his own throbbing.

“You want to cum,” he couldn’t help but moan the question as he slowed for a moment.  It was still nowhere near the excruciatingly slow rhythm he used when he made love to her, but it was much slower than before.  He exchanged speed for powerful thrusts that moved both their bodies in sweeping movements up and down the wall.  

“Oh ffuuck, yes,” she gasped as her held fell back, “Uhnn, ah Kami, uhnnn.”

He could feel her wetten more.  His own cock started trembling.  He wanted her walls to flutter.  He wanted her sweet, agonizing pussy to pull the orgasm out of him.

“Cum for me, Woman, uhnn, ah, just for me.”

He’d never begged anyone for anything in his life.  Never groaned and moaned like this with anyone ever in his life.  But her.  His Woman.  He’d do anything for her.

Her legs tighten around him even more.  Her legs trembling.  Her head fell forward again.  Her mouth by his ear in that way that sent chills and thrills up and down his spine.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum for you.”  He breathed.

“Don’t stop, Vegeta, oh Kaa-mmi, don’t stop.”

He picked the pace up a bit for her but not so much that he’d sacrifice how incredibly deep he was getting in her.

“Vegeta!  Vegeta! Vegeta!”

He feel it in her. Her body was starting to still…the calm before the storm that her quaking walls would unleash.  His own body was stilling, his balls clenched so tight they were just waiting for the chance to release in her…Any moment…Any moment. Oh Gods, she felt so good.  So fucking good.  Oh fucking Gods!  He wanted to fill her with so much of his seed they’d repopulate the entire fucking Saiyan race!

*                      *                      *

Yamcha landed on her balcony and rushed through the open doors…

“Holy shit,” he gasped as the overwhelming smell hit him.  He’d never smelled anything like that before.  It was so strong and musky!

But before his mind could even process that, his eyes took note of the clothes on the floor. There were men’s clothes here and—

“—stop.  Vegeta!”

“Bulma!”  He raced to her opened bathroom door and rushed in…

To see Bulma pinned to the wall by Vegeta.  Her legs wrapped around his waist as the Saiyan’s hips moved and his butt muscles flexed with each thrust.  One of her hands gripping into the black hair and the other digging deeply into the Saiyan’s shoulder blade.  But the look on her face…the way she was chanting Vegeta’s name…she was…

“Vegeta!  Vegeta! Vege-, Vege-, ah, ah, uhnn, Vegetaaaa!!!”

Her scream echoed off the walls and her nails drug deep scratches across Vegeta’s back as her toes curled and her legs shook.  Her jaw slackened in a look of the most powerful ecstasy Yamcha had ever seen.

And he felt his heart, everything he’d ever known of her shatter like glass…She’d just cummed. She’d just orgasmed on the thrusting dick of his murderer.  How…how…How could…

“How could you?” The panged whisper barely reached his own ears under the screaming of his murderer’s name.

 Feeling her claw his back, Gods that spurred him.  He kept going and going.  Grunting and groaning.  Thrusting and thrusting.  Gods, he wanted to join her.  Her walls were beating against his cock and he wanted his cock to…to…Fuck!  Fuck!

“Bul-, Bulmaaa!  Uhnnn, Bulmaa!  Ah, Bulma,” he breathed into the side of her beautiful neck.  His cock jolted.  His hips jerked and slammed into her as he cock released his seed into her sticky, wet core.  He moved his hips over and over.  Helping her sweet, sweet walls milk him.  Milk him dry. He couldn’t give her enough.  She held on to him with the most loving arms and tender embrace in the universe and he knew he could never give her enough. But dammit he would never give up trying.

“You son of a bitch!! Did you just cum in my girlfriend?!!”

Vegeta’s eyes popped open.  Bulma’s head popped up, eyes wide…she screamed.  She screamed bloody murder.

“Noooo!!!! Yamcha, get out of here!  You’re ruining it!  How dare you ruin it!”  She reached for bottle to throw at him, but everything was out of reach.  “Get out of here!”  She cried.  “You’re ruining it!”

Her tears streamed down her face and Vegeta held her, his hand falling from cradling her head to wrapping around her little waist as she fought for something, anything to throw before giving up and descending into wails.  He was terrified about what to do and overcome by how protective she was of what they’d shared…just as protective of their privacy as he was guarded of it, of them.

He turned burning murderous eyes on the pathetic excuse for a man that kept ruining her life. Who had walked in on them in the most intimate moment and ruined how private and precious it was for them.

“GET OUT!!” Vegeta roared as Bulma wept over his shoulder, distraught over the violation of her private joy.

“No!  You get off of her you sick—”

“You bastard!” She wailed, “Yamcha, you bastaaard!”

Vegeta held her tighter, pinning her more to the wall, protecting her and shielding her with his body the way he did after they made love.  His scowl burning another death sentence into the intruder.

Yamcha was stunned. Absolutely stunned.

“This is how?! This is how you get over me?!  By fucking my murderer, you wh—”

“Vegeta, don’t!”

The slur froze in Yamcha’s throat as Vegeta brought up a his hand in a single motion complete with ki blast.  But he didn’t fire, Bulma’s plea staying his hand…for the moment.

“You can’t,” she pleaded, “The room’s too small.”

Vegeta didn’t bother looking around, her bathroom was the same as his.  Any ki blast of killing magnitude would be disastrous in such tight confines and the glass…he’d be shredded shielding her body from it and even then he wouldn’t be enough to protect all of her for the tearing shards. The ki blast died in his palm. But Vegeta kept his palm aimed at Yamcha.

“Really?! That’s it?!  Not ‘Don’t, its Yamcha’, but ‘Don’t, the room is too small’?!”

Bulma was silent, but at least she had stopped crying.  She clung tightly to Vegeta as reddened, sapphire eyes glared fiery daggers at Yamcha.

“You do remember he’s killed me before!  That he’s threatened to kill you!”

Vegeta’s arm tightened around her tiny waist.  He felt her arms tighten around him, her nails digging in possessively.  It thrilled him, but he kept up his glare at Yamcha and his waiting palm never wavered.

“Go back to your sluts, Yamcha,” she growled dangerously, “He’s mine.”

Vegeta’s heart clenched.  She’d claimed him.  She’d claimed him infront of one of her, undoubtedly former at this point, friends with such a clear and daring possessiveness.  Vegeta had never been his own man from the age of six, but this, he wasn’t her property or her slave, he belonged to her because she belonged to him.  His fingers pressed into her flesh, his scowl deepening.

“You think he gives a shit about you?  You really think he here for anything other than getting pampered here by you and your family before killing all of us and destroying the planet?  Really?!  Fine! We’ll see!  We’ll see when I tell your parents!”  Yamcha ran out of the room.

“No!”  Fear filled her entire body in an instant, Vegeta paled.  “Please, Yamcha don’t!  I’ll do anything!  I’ll—” She looked at Vegeta and he looked at her…then she shut squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head in shame, “I’ll go back to you just don’t do this!”

“Bulma,” Vegeta gasped.  She’d just offered herself in exchange for him…just offered her body to save him…

Her struggles in his arms were desperate and quickly overrode Vegeta’s hold on her.  His stunned face as agape at…her feet hit the floor and she was off, “Yamcha don’t!!”  She was so slippery that she slipped from Vegeta’s reaching grasp and ran out the room, slipping into the bathrobe she hung on the door.  Vegeta shut off the water and hurried out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist as he ran after her.

 Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran and ran and ran…she saw a flutter of his jacket as her ran ahead of her.  Tears blurred her vision, “Please Yamcha!”

“No!  That sick freak has to go!”

“Don’t!”

He whipped around a corner.  She followed. They were close.  So close to the kitchen and dining room.  To her parents.

Another corner. There at the end of the hallway, the stairs…and the dining room.

“Yamcha!!”  She was gaining on him.  Desperation and fear pushing her legs to extremes she didn’t know she could get to.

He was at the top of the stairs, a few more lengths and she’d have him…and flew down them. No, she couldn’t fly.  She couldn’t fly.

He landed at the bottom.  Her feet bounding down stairs.

Yamcha went through the doorway and Bulma screamed.  Saying nothing but just wailing for all her lungs could manage.  She clung to the frame of the doorway at the bottom staring in at her parents staring at her and Yamcha.

She was screaming. All Vegeta could hear was her screaming. His feet lifted and he took flight. He saw her clinging to the door frame of the dining area and landed by her side.  He reached for her only to freeze—her parents were watching him, watching all three of them.

“Bulma, dear, what’s wrong?”  The eternally perky Mother asked with a large bowl of fresh fruit in her hands, she’d been about to place it on the table when her daughter had screamed, the sound freezing her in place, “Oh and Yamcha and Vegeta, are you boys hungry?”

Vegeta knew enough to know that the Mother was trying to diffuse the situation with feigned innocence, but the Mother was as smart and wily as the Woman she’d given birth to. The Saiyan knew to keep his mouth shut…the idiot didn’t.

“Do you know what they were doing?!”

The movement caught Vegeta’s eyes; Bulma was trembling like a leaf, panting, eyes wide with terror. She’d offered to give herself back to a relationship that made her miserable to protect him…she…he’d…Vegeta’s chest clenched like he were trapped in a vice.

“I caught them screwing in her shower!”

Bulma buried her face in the wall.  Eyes squeezed shut.  “No,” she sobbed, “They’ll throw him out.  No.”

Vegeta had never felt such a rage before at the sight of his Woman in anguish.  How dare that weakling!

“Oh, shower sex in the morning!  How exciting!”  The Mother chirped.

Wide, stunned eyes gaped at Mrs. Briefs.

“Wh-what?” Yamcha couldn’t believe his ears.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Panchy giggled, blushing as she eyed her daughter and alien houseguest, “I guess that explains how underdressed the two of you are.”

Bulma clasped the fold of her bathrobe tighter over her chest while Vegeta gripped the knot of his towel, both suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to cover up even more.

“You, you,” Yamcha still couldn’t process this, “You knew about them?”

“Well, not this exactly,” Dr. Briefs finally spoke up from his still casual presence sitting at the end of the table with a hot cup of coffee and his newspaper infront of him.  All eyes went to him.  Dr. Briefs’ eyes met Vegeta’s for a moment…the Saiyan Prince nodded barely perceptibly, the Father went on.  “Yesterday, Vegeta came to see me.”

Bulma looked back at Vegeta, but he kept his dark eyes on her father.  Now he was the one who was trembling like a leaf.

“He told me that he and Bulma had had a couple of occasions in which things had, well, one thing had led to another.”

Bulma gasped and pressed herself against the wall.  The line of Vegeta’s lips thinned.  From what he understood of what little he had watched of the thing they called television, a suitor telling the parents of amorous dealings was somewhat taboo. She turned horrified eyes away from him and to her father, “Daddy, Vegeta told you about, about…that?”

“All he said was that two of you had had encounters before and that he, well, he asked permission to date you, my Dear.”

All the fear died. Warmth filled her.  Her eyes cleared, she sniffed.  “He, he what?”

“Vegeta asked permission to date you and perhaps do more if you would allow it.”

Bulma felt herself glowing.  No one had ever…she felt so…Vegeta. She turned—he was gone.

“But, but,” Yamcha sputtered.

“Yamcha,” Dr. Briefs turned his paternal voice to him, “what goes on between Bulman and Vegeta is none of our business.  They are two grown adults engaging in a grown adult relationship, we are not in it with them. Now, come, sit down and have some breakfast will you?  Bunny just made a lovely spread.”

Yamcha’s cheeks reddened and he felt as flushed and shy as he had when he’d first met Bulma…when they were kids…But they weren’t kids anymore.  They’d stopped being kids awhile ago.  That was no kid that was having sex with Vegeta in a shower and he wasn’t a kid when he’d been caught in bed with one of her dearest friends…and never went after her as she ran sobbing from his apartment…when he stayed with that friend for the rest of the night, drowning his guilt and sorrow in her soft soothing words—lies, he’d fallen for the woman’s lies so that he could face himself in the morning…he’d hidden from Bulma and her friend and everyone except Puar.  But Vegeta had been there for Bulma when he’d hurt her.  Had been there to comfort her in an apparent physical way that had…well…Yamcha’d lost Bulma to the man that had killed them because at least that murderer had been honest with her.

“Uh, no,” Yamcha looked at the toes of his shoes, “I should leave.  I, I have, uh, training, uh, with the team.  Thank you though, uh.  Bye.”

He turned and walked away.

Bulma watched him go then looked back at her parents.  She met her father’s eyes…he nodded, she nodded.  He went back to his paper and coffee as her mother finally put the bowl of fruit down on the table.  Bulma turned and ran back up the stairs.

*                      *                      *

He stalked back and stopped in the hallway.  To his right was the door to his room and just beyond was the door’s to hers, still open and still seeping just the slightest hint of their sex in the air coming out of it.  It had all been like a dream.  Some sort of fantasy that he’d been too scared to allow himself to have when he was younger…under Freiza.  The lizard had never allowed him to have anything, kept Vegeta on a tight and punishing leash, but at least Vegeta had had dreams.  Granted, they had been dreams about destroying the one hold the leash, the one doling out the punishment, dreams about immortality and universal domination.  But this dream, his fingers shifted and he felt the softness of her towel beneath them. She had been magical.  She had been on Namek.  She had been when he thought she was finally rid Yamcha.  She had been when he’d called her his for the first time and taken her from that stupid club and she’d taken him for most of that night.  She had been when he’d decided to forgo a day’s training to be with her…and made love to her for the first, but not last, time.

“Vegeta?”  Her voice was soft behind him.

Vegeta turned around.

Something had changed. All her fear was gone.  Any anger he had expected to get from violating some sort of social taboo with her parents wasn’t there at all.  She was…tender and her eyes were filled with the same warmth he felt in his chest when she’d offered herself to Yamcha in order to make sure her parents never found out about them and threw Vegeta out.  She didn’t have to do that, but she didn’t know that at the time.  She didn’t know that he’d held to the Saiyan tradition of attaining the parents’ permission to court a female…and she didn’t know that he’d also asked permission to become her mate.  Her Father had asked what that meant for Saiyans and Vegeta had explained.  The Father sat for quite some time in thought before giving his permission and blessings then proceeded to help Vegeta tie that ridiculous tie before he left Dr. Briefs’ personal lab and went to prepare Bulma’s room for their return.

Vegeta felt something himself.  He felt hope.

“You, you told my Dad.”

He nodded, standing stock still.

“You asked his permission to…to be with me?”  He could see her eyes start to redden again, the wet brimming in them again.

He nodded, felt stinging at the back of his own eyes, “I did.”

She stepped closer to him.  His breathing caught in his chest as he watched her.  She reached for him—then stopped.  His heart chilled, she’d stopped herself from touching him.  Could it be that that warmth in her eyes…had it been pity?

“I, uh,” she floundered and her hands retreated from him, “I, uh, think you should focus on your training today, okay?  And I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He felt his shoulders tingle with the urge to droop.  His crest on the brink of falling…

“And then I,” he couldn’t believe he was begging like a puppy like this, “then I…I return to your room after evening meal again?”

He whole demeanor changed.  Her eyes went dry, she held her robe closed against her chest, and every sense about her was suddenly distant.  She’d shut herself off from him.  In the course of a single heartbeat, she’d shut herself off from him.

“I, uh, no, not tonight.”

His crest shattering when it hit rock bottom.

“We should get some rest, don’t you think?”

He didn’t say anything.  He was struggling to put his mask of indifference back on as quickly as possible. How could I have been so foolish?  How could I have been so weak?!

“Sure.  Fine then.  You can rest, Woman,” he spat the name.  Before turning and opening the door of his room, he slammed it shut behind him.  She could keep those damn clothes, he never wanted to see them ever again!!

She flinched at the bang but she figured it was coming.  They’d been so hot and heavy for each other for the past couple of days that putting any amount of brake on would come with anger.  For Kami’s sake, she’d had to stop herself from touching him just a moment ago.  She knew if she laid even so much as a fingernail on his skin that she jump into his arms and demand that he do to her all the things he said he’d wanted to; the floor of her shower would still be wet after all, get some really good traction for them. But no, she’d stopped herself because if she did that, if they did that, she wouldn’t even have the slim prayer that she did now of finishing what she wanted to work on…for him.  She hurried into back into her room and threw her bathrobe on the floor as she dove through drawer after drawer for clothes.  The smile wouldn’t leave her face and she didn’t want it to.  He’d asked permission…He had asked permission!...For her!  Her cheeks were starting to ache but she didn’t care.  She was going to make this the best surprise for Vegeta, Her Vegeta!!  She laughed.

Something flew past by her room outside her balcony.  She knew instantly that was him.  She raced over and leaned over her railing to watch him rush into the Gravity Room on the lawn.  Then Bulma ran back into her room and finished dressing.  Oh-ho-ho, he was going to love this, just love it!  At least, she hoped he would.  Oh, she just couldn’t wait to get started!  She squealed as she threw on her lab coat as she walked out her door.  Then Bulma stopped, the towel was on the floor in the middle of the hallway.  Well…Vegeta must have tossed it out his door.  He didn’t have to that, her Mother was bound to be on her usual daily cleaning assault on the whole their residence and would surely have picked it up for laundry, but oh well.  Bulma snatched it up and tossed it into her room before closing the door and making an all out dash for her own personal lab, skipping at times.

*                      *                      *

As soon as he slammed his door on her, he slumped back against it.  He should have known!  He should have fucking known!  She would never truly attach herself to him. No one would!

Vegeta squeezed his eyes shut against the torturous stinging and immediately felt them.  Tears! The Prince of All Saiyans, the Destroyer of Worlds, crying over some stupid Woman?!  But he couldn’t stop it.

She’d rejected him. The moment she’d stopped herself from touching him, he felt fear creep into his body like he never had under Freiza. And when she shut herself off…Vegeta gasped, fighting hard to keep the tears back but some fell anyways.  FUCK! His fist balled and shook with his pain, no one had ever hurt him the way she just had.  Not even Freiza.  Suddenly he ripped off her towel from his waist, turned, opened his door, and flung it out into the cold hallway.  He closed the door on it, on her, on all of it.  He was back.  Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans.

He stalked over to the dresser and chose his old Saiyan flightsuit and armor.  Battered, broken in places, battle-worn…it was like him, had been with him through it all.  This was the only true attachment he had, his pride, his strength as a Saiyan. He slipped the clothes on and felt anger at himself that neither felt like a second skin to him anymore.  Well, he would fix that.  She told him to train…and train he will.

Vegeta walked out onto his balcony, and turned to the Gravity Chamber on the distant lawn.  Then he heard it, the laugh, her laugh…He felt the tears again.  She was laughing at him, laughing to herself about how she’d duped him into, into—No, he wasn’t saying it!  He would never say it!  Vegeta shot past her balcony on his flight to the Gravity Chamber.

He flung open the door, rushed in, and slammed the it shut behind him.  This, this was his sanctuary.  A place of nothing but battle.  With machines.  With himself. Constant war!  He flew over to the control panel and began setting his parameters as the tears continued to stream from his eyes.  He’d never allow himself to dream again.  Dreams were for fools.  Dreams were for idiots like Kakkarot.  Dreams were…dreams were…his hand began to tremble over the buttons…Dreams were not for him…

[scarletraven1001]

Signs

For all his brains, brawn, and battle genius, Vegeta certainly seemed to know very little about himself. Bulma wants to learn more about her very mysterious husband, and what better place to start than to find out when he was born?

After all, she can’t give him “birthday sex” if she didn’t even know his birthday.

[A post-Buu saga fic, one-shot.

For the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day four: Scorpio.]

Also on Ao3.

 8-8-8-8-8

Signs

8-8-8-8-8

The further that Bulma delved into her studies, the more she was convinced that Vegeta was a Scorpio.

She sat up and stretched, the bones around her shoulders releasing a satisfying pop as she tried to relieve the soreness in her joints.

Her eyes were bloodshot, nose red from her rubbing as she had sneezed all night at the dust from the old astrology documents that she had buried her face into in her search for answers.

She was absolutely committed to finding out about when, exactly, her husband was born.

8-8-8-8-8

Her curiosity started while at a gathering at Capsule Corps’ newest facility.

One of her factory supervisors had asked her if she would mind if he proposed marriage to his girlfriend, a fellow employee, at the party.

Bulma, romantic-at-heart that she was, had gleefully agreed.

The man had indeed gotten down on one knee to propose, and the woman had accepted. The excited crowd asked the flustered and giddy girl for a few words, and she had laughingly joked that she had known they were meant to be together since she found out that his zodiac sign was a perfect romantic match for hers.

After the party, tipsy from one too many flutes of champagne, Bulma had sought out her perfect romantic match.

She found Vegeta in the kitchen, making himself a late night snack. She leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, biting her bottom lip as she stared at him appreciatively from the back.

His dark hair stood unmoving atop his head, the muscles on his arms flexing slightly from his movements as he spread god-knows-what on the slices of bread before him, making a mountainous sandwich.

His shapely butt dragged her eyes down, following the glorious curve from his waist, and Bulma could practically feel his smooth skin under her fingertips.

Shaking herself from her lusty stupor, she walked up to him from behind, knowing that he had been aware of her presence before she even found him, but was humoring her attempts at stealth.

She slung herself across his back, hands wrapping around his waist from behind, then cheekily leaned up to blow softly into his ear.

“Hey stranger,” she purred seductively, watching the fine hairs at the back of his neck rise in response to her closeness. “What’s your sign?”

He turned to her, eyes intense but bemused. “My what?”

“Your sign. You know. Zodiac. Like, I’m a Leo,” she said, pulling her head back slightly to peer into his face.

“You are a lion?” he asked uncertainly, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“No,” she shook her head with a chuckle. “My sign is Leo. Coz my birthday is on August 18.”

She loosened her arms around him as Vegeta turned to her fully. “I do not understand what you are talking about,” he began, a hand wrapping around her wrist that now rested on his hip. “I know of your birthday, you make a ridiculously big deal of it every year. What is this sign you speak of?”

“The zodiac. The date of your birth falls under a particular sign, and all those under this sign have common personality quirks,” she explained. “Like for me; Leos are creative, passionate, funny-”

“Are they also arrogant, stubborn and self-centered?”

“Asshole,” she muttered, and he just answered with a teasing smirk.

“I get the idea now,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “But I do not know mine.”

“Well, when is your birthday? We can tell from that. And now that I think about it, you never told me when your birthday is,” she mused, eyes narrowing slightly in intrigue.

“I never told you, woman,” he said shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth, “because I do not know.”

She blanched. “What? Seriously?”

“How could I possibly know such a thing? I was gestated in a pod, then presented to my father a few days after my maturation. The exact dates were not exactly vital information to us Saiyans. Additionally, even if I were to know, the dates I am more familiar with would have been in a different calendar than the one you use here on earth.”

“I asked you before and you didn’t answer me, you just distracted me til I forgot to ask again,” she groused.

His lips lifted into a grin, a lascivious spark in his eyes, as he recalled, “I believe I was in the middle of giving you your annual ‘birthday sex’, as you call it, when you asked.”

“I bet that the birthday sex is the primary reason why you remember my birthday.”

“Perhaps,” he answered, his arms wrapping around her, before he leaned down and kissed her senseless, distracting her already clouded, tipsy mind with his body and tongue so thoroughly that she had once again dropped the subject in an instant.

However, she was determined to find out this time. She brought it up again while they were sweaty and tiredly sprawled across each other, which Bulma had long ago discovered was the best time to ask Vegeta for anything, as he mellowed considerably, post orgasm.

She preferred to believe that this was due to her being so cosmically amazing in bed, that even the Prince of Grumps was helpless against her charms.

His eyebrows had practically met on his forehead as he scrunched his face hard, trying to recall certain things that could help them determine when he was born.

8-8-8-8-8

It turned out that Vegeta knew more than he realized, and he had given her just enough information to help her cross-reference dates and cosmic events to find the date, or at least the approximate date, of his birth.

She had spent several days researching and studying astrological concepts and astronomical anomalies in her quest for information.

At that moment then, as she stretched her arms and began to stand, she was convinced, certain, even, that she had finally found the correct date, and with her genius brain, Bulma knew that the margin of error was likely very minimal.

Based on the approximate location of Vegeta-sei, relative to the solar system, as well as the specific cosmic events that he had relayed to her, she had deduced that Vegeta was born less than 365 days before she was. Perhaps not on the same calendar year, but they were born within a year of each other.

Further calculations have narrowed it further: the sun, at the time, had just entered the vicinity of the Scorpio constellation.

Which meant that Vegeta was born sometime towards the end of October, and as she had delved more into it, arrived at the conclusion that the date would be between the 25th to the 31st.

Her husband was a Scorpio.

Fittingly, like their son, Trunks.

It certainly figured that the two, who were basically color negative images of each other, would even share the same stubborn sun sign.

Bulma chuckled to herself as she thought about it, before she finally stood, ready to call it a night.

Vegeta was still in his training room when she turned in, so she washed and dressed in a simple thin nightgown, but she realized that she was too tired to wait up for him, and she felt her lids grow heavy with sleep.

A few hours later, a softly muttered curse, followed by the dipping of the left side of the mattress, roused her from her light sleep.

“Late night training, eh,” she muttered as the shifting body of her husband laid down beside her with a tired huff.

“I was trying to formulate a new training regimen for Trunks,” he answered, before he turned to lie on his side, an arm reaching out to pull her close to him on the bed. He was only in his boxers, as he usually was when going to sleep, and Bulma keenly felt his body heat through his bare skin.

She happily snuggled into his broad chest, breathing in his manly scent, the feelings of security within his arms soothing her as she looked up to peer into his face.

“Really now?” she asked softly.

“Yes. That insolent boy has been skipping his katas because he is so fixated on messing around on that infernal gaming machine that you got him for his birthday.”

Bulma perked up. “Hey, Vegeta,” she began, slightly moving away from his embrace to lean over him, bracing herself on one elbow planted beside his torso. “Speaking of birthdays, I think I already know yours!”

His eyebrow arched up as he regarded her, “Really? Impressive, woman.”

“Well, I am a genius,” she bragged, “and I know your zodiac sign, too!”

“Let me hear it then,” he said, a corner of his lips lifting in amusement. “I wish to know so I could reap the rewards annually, as you are so fond of doing.”

She smiled cheekily, “Per my ridiculously complicated calculations, you, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, were born as the month of October ends, between the 25th to the 31st. We could celebrate it on the 28th, to make it smack dab in the middle of the estimated dates. What do you think?”

“Acceptable. That is barely two weeks apart from Trunks’s birthdate.”

“Yep! And that’s another thing: like Trunks, you are a Scorpio!”

“My sign is that of a venomous arachnid?” he smirked. “I like it.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Bulma protested. “I read up on the personalities of Scorpios and it is so ridiculously you that I was just validated that my calculations were correct.”

“And what exactly is a Scorpio supposed to be like?”

“Well,” Bulma began “Scorpios are very intense, and possessive-”

“I only wish to assert my right over those that belong to me,” he answered, an arm tightening around her, his brows wagging naughtily.

“Oh hush, I’m not done,” she scolded, even as a free hand went to caress his chest in unconscious response to his flirting. “As I was saying... They are possessive, and can be jealous, which triggers their vindictive sides.”

“I am not jealous,” he argued.

“Vegeta, you are totally the jealous type. You scared off the mailman because you thought he was too close while he handed me my mail.”

“Proceed,” he acquiesced, his cheeks slightly reddened.

“At their best, they are resourceful, constant, and enduring…” Bulma continued, “but at their worst, can be cold, distrustful and obsessive.”

“I suppose these traits truly are definitive of me.”

“They are passionate… and unrestrained in the bedroom…” she said, her eyes locking on to his as she gave him a suggestive grin.

“I suppose the number of bed frames we have destroyed in the past can attest to the ‘unrestrained’ part,” he gave her an answering smirk.

“Also, they are…” at this, her grin turned serious, a soft smile touching her lips. “extremely protective, loyal, and faithful.”

“But,” she kept on saying, her heart leaping into her throat. “If they get too calm and comfortable in a relationship, they will find ways to stir up trouble.”

He looked down at her hand on his chest at this, seemingly embarrassed to meet her eyes.

She knew what they were both thinking about: the battle with Buu, where Vegeta had turned to the dark side to find his old, evil self again, because he was uneasy with how he had grown fond of his life on earth and his family.

“Bulma,” he breathed her name uncertainly. “I hope you know that I am… beyond that, now.”

She smiled softly at him at that, putting a finger under his chin to push his head up so they were face to face. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. I also read up on Leo’s romantic compatibility with Scorpio, and it was exactly what happened to us. When we started, we didn’t really know what to expect, and it wasn’t easy because we are both stubborn-”

“You more than I.”

“Blasphemy,” she shot back. “But anyway. Now, I think we understand each other well enough and respect each other so we can deal with our doubts more easily.”

Vegeta’s lips quirked up on one corner, and it made her heart skip a beat, because that beautiful little movement was the tiny smile that he only ever showed her. The one full of uncertainty, and the affection he was still hesitant to show her.

His eyes suddenly shot down, and she realized that her top had ridden down enough in her movements that she was now blessing him with a very generous view of her chest.

His eyes narrowed, a mischievous grin touching his lips, as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes shining with lust.

“Well. Now that you know my birthday, don’t you think that we should be making up for lost time?” he asked huskily.

“Lost time?”

“Yes,” he hissed softly. “We have been together for nearly a decade. And while I have indulged you every year, I now choose to claim your debts in bulk.”

She had an idea of where this was going. “Oh? And what debts are those?”

“I wish to claim my overdue ‘birthday sex’ sessions,” he leered, his arms loosening around her as he began to slide sinuously down her body. “and I demand that we begin making up for the missed celebrations, right now.”

He dipped down, and Bulma gasped in surprise when she felt his teeth clamp down none-too-gently on the side of her neck. His tongue immediately followed, soothing the playful bite, and she arched against him in delight when she felt his hands begin to explore, one of them sneakily reaching up to cup her breast through her clothing.

Vegeta seemed rather worked up, she could feel it in how his caresses were a touch too fast, a little too hard, but all too delightful. He dragged his strong hands down to her legs, catching the bottom of her gown. He pressed the material close to her skin as he began to pull it up over her head, his warm fingers stroking her skin as he undressed her.

When the gown was over her head and she was trying to free her arms, he quickly swooped down and captured her nipple into his hot mouth, and Bulma mewled softly as she felt him begin to suck, every thought in her head becoming muddled as the sensations brought chills up and down her body.

She struggled to free her arms from the gown, eager to touch him, to reciprocate the feelings he was quickly stirring up in her.

He reared up, but instead of releasing her from the restraining material, he smirked, grabbing onto the bunched up cloth and pulling, making a tight, makeshift cuff around her wrists. He leaned closer to her, his breaths fanning against her face, before he captured her lips in his, his tongue forcing its way past her lips as he tasted her, devoured her through her mouth.

She moaned loudly against him, arching up to rub her stiff, aching nipples against his bare chest.

One of his hands clutched her waist, digging into her skin, the sharp feel of his fingers against her soft flesh pulling a harsh, pleasured gasp from her.

“Vegeta,” she whispered his name against his lips, her eyes closed as she focused on the feel of his power surrounding her, his large body covering her smaller form.

She felt him lift himself from her body and she instantly felt the cold air seep into her bones at the loss of his heat. She opened her eyes, watching in delight as her perfectly-formed husband kneeled beside her hips, his hungry eyes roving her form as he pushed his boxers down to his knees.

Her gaze traveled down to his erect member, admiring his body while he somehow extricated himself from his underwear. She hurriedly tugged her arms free from her nightgown, then sat up slightly, leaning back on her elbows as she let her own eyes drink in his naked perfection.

He was magnificent and he knew it, and thus had always been very proud of his physique. Even during their very first encounters, he had never shied away from showing off his body, and today was no different.

She both sensed and saw his smirk as she continued her very obvious admiration of his every dip and angle.

Those hard, chiseled muscles of his arms were absolutely to die for. Her eyes took in the luscious sight of his chest, seemingly etched from marble, then down to his firm abdominals that were so deliciously beautiful that she wanted to rub her cheeks across them and take a long lick.

He was quite an amazing eyeful, and not for the first time, Bulma sent a quick prayer up to kami to thank him for awarding her this morsel as her husband.

“See something you like, woman?” he joked, putting a hand on his hip, drawing her eyes to the delightful diagonal indentations leading down to his center.

“Oh yes,” she purred, laying back on her arms in invitation, a similar challenge in her eyes as she saw him leer at her unabashedly.

She was puzzled when, instead of heeding her call and coming to her, he moved further away, hunching over her hips. He fingered the garter of her panties before he used a single finger on either side of her thighs to push the scrap of cloth down her legs.

Vegeta leaned down then, placing a hot, open mouthed kiss on the tops of her thighs, following the path that his fingers drew down her legs. His lips followed immediately after her panties, licking and kissing every inch of her legs that the cloth passed over until he reached the tips of her toes.

He was now turned away from her, his buttocks squatted beside her waist as his mouth traveled downwards.

Bulma moaned deeply at his attentions, her legs quivering as he moved his lips down, as his hands stroked and teased, until his tongue snuck out and licked eagerly around her toes, pulling her big toe into his mouth and sucking hard.

She gasped as the feel of the suction reverberated through her, and she panted out his name as he released her feet, pulling himself back up and closer to her.

He then settled himself so his head was close to her crotch, a delicious thrill running up and down her spine when his large hands grabbed her hips, and he pulled her up to level her core with his face.

Vegeta then started to lay down, his feet up over her head and pushing up against the headboard, and she understood immediately that he wanted her to touch him with her mouth when he positioned himself so her face was close to his throbbing member.

She scooted down slightly so that her face was flush with his hips, and she shuddered when she felt his hot breath fan over her core. She pushed his hips down until he lay on the bed on his side, and she lay sideways as well, until their centers were pressed intimately against each other.

Bulma felt his fingers tracing her lower lips she wrapped her thin fingers around him. She bent her knee to give him further access as she pushed his leg up to bend above her as well.

She then felt him lift up her bent leg, slinging it over his arm as his hand found and tightly clutched the soft flesh of her buttocks. He pushed his face closer to her, and Bulma hissed when she felt his hot breath blowing into her core.

Bulma followed his lead, looping an arm around his raised leg until her fingers found the soft sacks hanging between his thighs.

She heard Vegeta groan deeply, a sheer second before she felt his mouth find her womanhood.

She leaned closer to him and reached to pull him so that his tip was against her lips, and she placed tender kisses along his length as his tongue pushed past her labia to find and torture her clitoris.

She pulled him into her mouth as far as she could while his tongue plunged into her core. She moaned deep in her throat, knowing that the vibrations of her voice brought him pleasure as she loved him with her mouth.

She adjusted her angle so that her jaw was slack against him, his tip going into her throat. He was so large and powerful all throughout, and his cock was no different, hard and veined and so deliciously arousing.

She felt his lips suckling her nub as he plunged two fingers into her and she lost her concentration for a moment, her throat rippling as she gagged slightly with him still in her mouth.

His balls bounced against her nose when he thrust his hips against her in his rapture, while she felt herself begin to drip in desire from the sheer magnitude of bliss that he gave her through his hands and mouth.

Bulma moved her mouth up and down faster, lightly running her teeth along his length as her wet mouth took him in deep. Vegeta was close, she could feel it in the way his thighs shook slightly in her grip, and she doubled her efforts as she felt him wag his tongue within her in a devastating fast motion that made her entire body flush in desire.

He then reached up, then without warning, pinched her clitoris, hard.

She shattered then, a scream ripping from deep inside her throat as he suddenly thrust himself against her, and in spite of the overwhelming bliss she was in, she wrapped her fingers around the base of him and gave him a hard squeeze as she sucked madly on his tip.

Vegeta roared as he spilled himself into her, and she soothed him by running her soft hands around the firm roundness of his butt, gently calming him after his release.

They stayed like that for a few moments, softly touching and caressing each other as they basked in the high of their orgasms. Bulma kissed his abdomen gently while his hands reached for as much of her skin as he could stroke, both languidly exploring intimately familiar territory that remained exciting, no matter how many times they touched.

After a while, Vegeta got up, his thick arms holding him up as he crawled back up her body until they were face to face once more.

He cupped her cheek in his hand as he leaned down and met her lips with his once again, their tongues leisurely wrapping around each other, tasting each other, as his questing hands moved to hold her hips down against the mattress.

She felt him nudging her, and she let him move her until he had rolled her over so she was face down on the bed.

He settled his body over hers, his weight on his arms at their sides, as he buried his face into the nape of her neck, the tip of his nose nudging her skin through the strands of her short blue hair.

One of his hands moved to slide under her stomach, as he easily supported himself on one outstretched arm, his corded muscles not even straining under his weight.

His hand on her began to explore, teasing her, his forefinger drawing circles around her belly button as she sighed in bliss.

His lips were on her nape, leaving soft kisses on her skin, his hot breath just barely brushing her.

He lowered himself and began to grind his rapidly hardening erection against her buttocks, parting her cheeks slightly, his wet tip taunting her with the promise of pleasure.

“Oh… Vegeta. That feels so good,” Bulma sighed as he started grinding against her harder, his hand on her stomach dipping lower to caress her nub. She spread her legs beneath him, urging him to enter her, and she felt his hand on her mound move back to her stomach, pulling her up so she was on her knees and elbows before him.

The Saiyan reached up and grabbed a pillow, then another one, and she watched as he piled the fluffy linen underneath her so she was lying on her stomach on them, her legs bent at the waist behind her. Her arms were stretched out before her, bracing herself up, her hands tangled in the sheets.

She felt him stretching behind her, maneuvering his body so it looked like he was about to do a set of push-ups. His legs were straight behind him, his toes supporting his weight from behind as he straightened his arms and braced them on either side of him.

His face came close to hers, from behind, and she felt his lips kiss her jaw, then her cheek, and she turned her head sideways to face him, her lips hungrily meeting his once again in a passionate lip lock that left her breathless with need when he suddenly pulled away.

He nuzzled her, inhaling deeply, his nose tucked into her unruly hair, before his hot mouth moved and she felt his teeth lightly nip her ear.

“Open yourself to me, Bulma,” he growled, and she spread her legs wide as he bore down on her hips, him vigorously grinding his length against her lower lips.

He lifted one arm away from the bed, holding his member as he guided himself into her waiting core.

Bulma’s breath caught as she realized that Vegeta had only entered her with his tip. He was still lightly grinding his hips against her ass, and she could feel his powerful hips holding his body over her. He was in her, but not fully, and she tried to buck against him to lure him in.

His position over her gave him a lot of control over their movements, and she heard him chuckle darkly in her ear as he simply held her hips down against her pillows with one hand while she mewled helplessly beneath him, calling out his name in desperation, imploring him to fill her like she needed him to.

“Vegeta please… I need you so bad,” she whined, leaning her head back as she tried to look into his heated eyes.

She should have known that her cocky bastard of a husband, who could easily do hundreds of one-handed push-ups, could effortlessly hold this position just to aggravate her.

“Didn’t you say earlier,” he rasped against her, his hard chest draping across her back as he leaned over her, dominating her body, “that my sign is possessive… obsessive?”

What the hell was he doing, bringing that up now?

She nodded her answer, her chest heaving from frustration.

“Your sources are accurate, Bulma,” he continued, his hips still rotating maddeningly against her posterior. “I truly am possessive. And I need you to appease me.”

She groaned, “Please, Vegeta. Anything…”

“Tell me then,” his arm on her hip traveled up to her chest, and she threw her head back with a hoarse shout as he roughly grabbed and squeezed her breast, his thumb pressing her nipple. “Who are you, and who do you belong to, woman?”

“Ah!” she cried.

“Answer me!” he demanded, his hand on her breast moving up to wrap his fingers around the base of her neck.

“Oh kami, Vegeta,” she nearly cried when she felt him pull out, only to push in so shallowly, taunting her. Her hands twisted convulsively into their sheets as the way he had her positioned kept her from lifting either arm to touch him.

“Tell me… I need to hear you say it,” he growled, the vibrations traveling across his chest and straight into her core.

“I… I am Bulma… Your Bulma!” she keened, her eyes seeking his yet again, wanting to see his face as she said it. “I am yours, Vegeta! Only yours!”

“As I am yours,” he rasped before he pulled his hips back and plunged himself back into her, his thrust so hard, fast and deep that she screamed, her core spasming wildly as his painfully delicious invasion made light burst behind her now tightly closed eyes.

His words registered in her head as he began to move frantically against her, and tears filled Bulma’s eyes, her heart full to bursting with emotion as his words ran in circles around her head.

As I am yours.

As I am yours.

She cried out his name as she pushed back against him, reveling in the feel of his hips grinding and slamming against her buttocks as he filled her over and over, deeper and deeper.

His balls slapped against her mound as his length drilled into her, and she felt the hand on her neck move to cup her jaw, pulling her face up so he could smash his mouth against her lips in a heated kiss that sent jolts of electricity to run through her limbs.

She groaned loudly against his lips, and she watched as his eyes closed tightly as he stopped kissing her, only to pant harshly against her ear while his powerful body worked to push them both off the edge, to fall off that pinnacle of rhapsody.

The sound of her moans and groans competed with the loud slapping of their skin, the musky fog of desire surrounding them rising higher as they raced to the finish.

Suddenly, Vegeta cried out, his arm supporting him giving out as he fell against Bulma, still furiously rutting against her, and Bulma felt his arms sneak down to her front, holding her against him as his breath rushed out of him in harsh pants.

He curled in around her form, and Bulma pushed her hips back against his own as she felt her release rise to the fore, the blinding pleasure taking over her body as she cried out his name, her core clenching wildly around him as her orgasm took hold of her once again.

Vegeta gasped, then stilled, and she felt the warmth of him fill her with liquid heat. He shuddered powerfully against her, unintelligible grunts and growls spilling from his lips, forcibly held back by his tightly gritted teeth.

Bulma smiled as she felt his weight lift from her back once he was through, lifting her up and gathering her in his powerful arms as he fell back heavily onto the bed. He lay on his back and she was draped over his chest, both panting loudly, and it felt like an eternity before either of them even had the strength to speak.

“So,” he said, his voice still slightly breathless. “I shall still be collecting on those debts. But perhaps,” he huffed out, “we can work on an installment basis.”

His offbeat humor never failed to surprise her. Bulma nearly choked on an inhale as she laughed hard, her eyes tearing up from her glee.

“Yeah, I guess we could do that,” she finally answered, pulling herself closer to him and nuzzling his chest, wide smile still plastered on her face. “We have a ways to go until October. We should have plenty of time before your next birthday.”

“Hnn,” he answered, and she felt his lips fall onto her head, kissing her hair. “Yes. And I expect my celebrations to be timely, from here on out.”

“Sure,” she answered, eyes fluttering closed as sleep overtook her.

Now that she knew his birthday and sign, she can definitely promise that she was going to be very prompt with the yearly birthday sex.

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END

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 End Notes:

I did some reading on the zodiac sign of Scorpio, and I found this gem.

Isn’t Vegeta just totally a Scorpio? Lol!

I got Bulma’s birthdate from here.

References for the Scorpio position here and here. 

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!