#they have more parallels (framing lines arcs) than any other pair or trio in the show

[raayllum]

oh me? yeah i'm a viren-callum parallels enjoyer

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 9

[A very self-indulgent, not sfw chapter this time! Forgive me if it’s cheesy; I’m super rusty with actually writing smut. :’3

You’ve been warned.

Bonus song for basically Nabs before she gets some ;3]

Nabooru

Gloved fingers dragged through rain-deprived dirt, hands and feet kicking up a cloud of dust as Nabooru skidded along the ground and twisted her body back around to face her Saiyan assailant. They had been at it for hours, deciding their time off was better spent training than goofing off. Thus, as her muscles and depleting energy reserves begged for rest, a change in tactics to either secure a win or put her in the least embarrassing position possible to request a reprieve didn't sound like the worst idea in the world. Scouter or no, the switch up should catch him off guard enough to at least get a few, solid final attacks in.

She dug her heels in to slow herself and regain control of her momentum after his last blow. Once she found a solid enough footing, she propelled herself forward again, charging like an enraged bull. She closed the gap between them in a flash. As she hoped, Vegeta expected her to throw a punch or a kick, a series of blasts or a wave of energy, and left his midsection open. Head lowered, she drove her shoulder hard into his abdomen and wrapped her arms around him. She felt the air whisk from his lungs and his body double over as she drove him backward and through a plateau. They slammed to the ground and Nabooru pinned him, knees straddling either side of his waist. 

She drew her arm back and aimed a punishing strike for Vegeta's jaw, only for it to crash through solid earth next to his head as he tilted his head to dodge it. Her left fist followed up, only to be caught. Energy crackled around their joined hands in the stalemate, jaws clenched with the effort to gain an upper hand.

Nabooru noted his smirk a second too late. She just caught the glimpse of his free arm lifting toward her before his forearm collided with her stomach, forcing her off of him and onto her back. He was on her in an instant, arms pinned and crushed at her sides by his powerful thighs and a ball of red ki aimed for her face. She wriggled to try and free herself, only for Vegeta to shove the sphere of energy threateningly closer, the heat of it grazing the tip of her nose.

"Give up."

Nabooru considered attempting to kick him in the head or back, freeing her hand enough to blast or grab some part of him--his inner thigh, groin, ass if she could manage to reach--in a strategy to surprise him enough to regain some control. But the second her fingers twitched, his knees tightened on her hips, and she bit back a pained yelp from the pressure it placed on her hands and pelvis.

"Fine. You win. Would you kindly get that out of my face now?"

Vegeta's frame shook with his taunting chuckle and the light evaporated from his palm. "You almost had me with that stupid tactic," he drawled, his tail whipping the air behind him in slow arcs. His grip on her hips loosened and he wiped blood from the side of his mouth with the back of his glove. "Too bad you couldn't follow through."

She pulled her hands and arms free, taking the moment to admire the musculature of his thighs plainly visible in his battle suit. She tried to make the upward roving of her eyes seem as organic as possible, hoping the way her gaze lingered on the exposed skin where chunks of his armor and suit were missing in his side and shoulder look like she was admiring her own handiwork before settling on his smug face. Blood from where she headbutt him earlier in the spar had trickled down from his forehead and down the bridge of his nose and was now half-dried there. At least he wouldn't leave their bout unscathed.

"I caught you off guard enough, so I'm counting it as a victory."

The prince scoffed, and she followed the shot of his gaze to find Nappa and Raditz landing beside them. "Did we interrupt something?" Nappa jeered, glancing between the pair of them. Nabooru caught the hint of pink dusting Vegeta's cheeks as he growled and sprang to his feet. She sat up herself, ignoring the fleeting thought of missing his weight on top of her. Forcing herself to look anywhere other than his backside. "If you need a little more time, we can come back later."

"Shut up. I hope you two were paying attention to what real sparring looks like."

Raditz snorted. Neither seemed particularly perturbed by Vegeta's growing temper. "Oh, sparring is what you call it? That's not what it looked like from where I'm standing."

Vegeta ignored him. "How much were you two slacking instead of training?" He raised a hand to his scouter. "Do I need to personally test you to see your progress?"

Nabooru rose to her feet and dusted off her backside before joining the trio. "You really think I'd pass up an opportunity to beat up on Raditz?" Nappa asked, causing the other to roll his eyes. "Even our runt is still getting stronger."

"Hmpt. We'll see." He paused to scrub the half dried blood from his face and, upon noting the questioning stares the other two pinned him with, clicked his tongue. "Whatever. You're dismissed. I want you both back here in twelve hours, got it? Your combat has looked sloppy lately, and I won't stand for you messing something up because you refuse to keep up with your training."

Instead of Nappa and Raditz leaving, Vegeta’s blue-white aura surrounded him and he took off, forcing all three left behind to shield their faces from the swirl of dust. “Are you joining us, Nabs?” Raditz asked, sweeping a hand in front of his face to ward off the dirt.

“Not this time.” Nabooru brushed stray strands of hair away from her face. “I might join you later. I need a bath before I do anything else.”

Nappa snorted. “Like I believe that after that performance you two put on. There was plenty more grappling than usual and I refuse to believe it wasn’t on purpose.” He slapped a hand on her back, causing her to hiss in pain. “If you go for it, just think of it as doing us all a favor.”

With a roll of her eyes, she turned her back on the smirking pair. “You two are the worst.” Feet hovered over the ground and she lifted her hand in salute. “I’ll see you later. Either for a drink or to kick your asses.”

She took the flight back to the resort district at a leisurely pace to reserve what little remained of her energy. Drowning in the bathtub wasn’t exactly her ideal death, and she wanted to enjoy the luxury of one when she only had the option to shower on the bases. She never realized how she had taken advantage of them back home when baths were the only option. Stripping out of her torn, sweat and blood soaked armor and soaking in the scalding hot water to soothe her muscles for hours sounded far better than cavorting around the entertainment district and dealing with crowds full of mostly drunk soldiers. Not to mention catching a wink of sleep before they resumed their grueling training.

Vegeta's decision to spend their off time training neither surprised her nor did it particularly bother her. Considering their conversation a few weeks prior and his suspicions and goals concerning Frieza, she expected and welcomed the workouts over doing nothing or continually searching for ways to spend the next three days, harsh as they already proved to be. Normally, the prince hadn't been particular about how the other two spent their time, however. Did they know his plans? She assumed they did or at least suspected. They knew him better, and his ambitious and entitled nature appended to his royal status was difficult to miss. How soon did Vegeta plan to move forward with his plans? If they kept getting stronger, would Frieza suspect something? Would he care? They couldn't exactly keep their training or any progress made a secret. Was there more to this than just killing Frieza?

Nabooru landed at the entrance to the resort they had chosen to stay in, reaching into her armor and pulling out the key to her room as she stepped onto the elevator. She selected her floor and leaned against the wall. She felt queasy considering what they were doing in full. She despised Frieza and the entire operation, but she risked far more than her own life with this. She didn't know how much she could trust Vegeta, but he offered her an out and that was better than she could get otherwise, it seemed. A way back to her home and her old life. Or whatever her life would be on the new Hyrule. It had to be better than conquering planets for Frieza and his family. Than constantly compromising her morality to keep her people safe and herself alive.

And Vegeta could be worse. For all his threats and insults, he had yet to really harm her. He had shown time and again that if he wanted her dead, he could have done it, both because he was more powerful and he had little qualms with killing. If he wanted to sabotage her, he could have outed her for blowing up the palace on Trimbon or anything else she had stepped out of line with. Perhaps to keep her as loyal as possible, especially now that he decided she was meant to help him in his endeavors, but she would be hard pressed to find anyone on the force without an angle that served their purposes. After all, she had agreed to help Vegeta mostly for her own benefit, to free herself from Frieza and the force and return home. Though his own plight and history, the parallels to her own, didn't hurt his chances of convincing her to risk everything. They could both get what they needed. What they deserved.

The elevator binged and she stepped onto the carpeted floor, heading to the end of the hall where her room was. She unlocked the door and slipped inside, yanking her armor over her head the second the doors slid closed. For all his flaws, she couldn't deny that he, like the other two Saiyans, had grown on her, too. The extra time spent together sparring and the brief conversations following helped, she supposed, as she could see him as more than a dethroned prince with a chip on his shoulder and a thrill for violence. More than anything, he saw her as a warrior first, had since the day they met, as she preferred to be seen. With everyone else underestimating her for her sex or viewing her as a potential bed mate, it went a long way with her. While she doubted he would ever treat her as an equal in any regard, she would survive so long as he continued to respect her as a warrior.

Nabooru struggled out of her torn battle suit and ripped leggings, boots kicked off and gloves dropped haphazardly. She yanked the tie from her hair as she pushed the button to the bathroom door open, the lights motion activated. Clean and simple if not a little small, the bathroom still had what she wanted: a bathtub with complimentary soaps and bubbles. She used her scouter to double check the contents of them as well as the quality of the water, and, finding that none would harm her skin or poison her if accidentally ingested, she filled the tub and dumped a generous portion of the bubbles in the water. 

She leaned against the sink counter as she waited for it to fill, tapping through her messages. Only one remained unread, and the origin dropped her heart to the pit of her stomach, worsening her discomfort. It was rare Frieza contacted her, anything he needed to say to her relayed through Vegeta or some other commander. She could only imagine what he wanted to say to her and her alone.

When the foam rose over the lip of the tub, she stepped in and lowered her body into the steaming water. She bent her legs and rested her spine against the back of the basin, letting her head fall back. Hand rose from the water to open the message, her pulse too quick for the relaxing atmosphere she created for herself.

As she feared, it referred to the job on Trimbon. She skimmed through it, chewing her bottom lip to the point of nearly splitting it open. The emperor informed her that she had performed better than expected with her conversations with the rebel leader but lamented her failure to convince him of a peaceful solution,  that she could have tried harder in his opinion, resulting in the loss of the greater portion of the planet's army and the palace. Her pay would be garnished for an amount agreed upon between the Empire and Trimbon's royal family once the damages were fully assessed. But the part that sent her mind awhirl with fresh paranoia was the end. A warning, vague but haunting. A reminder that her success and usefulness determined whether the deal between the Empire and her home planet and people stood, and that, should she be tasked with similar in the future, she should be better prepared to push the envelope to obtain the desired result.

Nabooru swallowed hard and pulled her scouter from her ear, sliding it across the tiled floor and away from the tub. She sucked in a breath and submerged herself, the rush of the running water like muffled hoofbeats in her ears. Her chest ached as her mind raced, unearthing the worst case scenarios. He had already destroyed her planet. He would find out why she had blown up the palace and would kill her people for it. He knew what she and Vegeta planned and would punish her by taking the only hope she still had from her. She failed them. All of them. All for a selfish act of consolation. She had no home, no race, she was alone, and--

She broke the surface again and gasped for air. The water threatened to spill over the side, and she leaned forward to turn the faucet off. No, she couldn't think like that. It was just a warning. Paranoia without real evidence to back the thoughts would only drive her closer to madness. The whispered rumor of Frieza's atrocities and Vegeta's suspicions about the fate of his home world were only speculation. Convincing speculation, but without witnessing it for herself...she couldn't afford to let it rule her. The distraction would make her sloppy and ultimately make her fears a reality.

She would stay the course. Continue to train with Vegeta so he or both of them could become powerful enough to kill Frieza. Impossible as it still seemed, it was without a doubt the only true way to ensure her people's safety. With the tyrant in power, their livelihood would always remain tenuous and out of her control.

Dragging her fingers through her wet hair, she closed her eyes in another attempt to relax. She steered her thoughts away from a fate that likely hadn't befallen her home toward the next few days of training and strategizing. Considering ways they could all get strong enough to take on Frieza as soon as they possibly could. Vegeta had mentioned a legend of his people, of a transformation known simply as a Super Saiyan. He said if he could figure out how to unlock it, Frieza would be no match for him. Unfortunately, her pressing on how one achieved the form revealed that the legend didn't elaborate on that with even Nappa and his knowledge of Saiyan lore drawing a blank. They had a goal, at least, but little direction for achieving it. But if anyone could accomplish it, it was Vegeta. The man was impressive in battle, strategic and naturally inclined to combat to a rare degree, and if nothing else, he would make it through sheer force of will.

A few years ago, she never would have imagined she would fight on the same level as someone like him, ki or no ki. The only one back home that gave her a run for her rupees was Ganondorf and Avira if she found her on an off day. Thus, she never imagined this sort of growth or power for herself and a new element to add to her fighting style to boot. She was glad to have someone to help her grow stronger. Test her and push her beyond her limits, even if he did so for purely selfish reasons. No reason he shouldn't benefit from it, too.

Half dozing, her train of thought shifted to their most recent spar, focusing on what she did well and where she could improve. New tactics to try. How to increase every attribute from speed and strength to endurance and stamina. The advantage of switching to less traditional styles as she had toward the end of their bout, and where those succeeded and failed. She went from the pinner to the pinned due to a loss of focus and a split second of carelessness. She could feel his weight on top of her again, his powerful thighs squeezing her hips in punishment for trying to wriggle free. That devilish smirk curling his lips as he slipped his hands beneath her armor and battle suit, gloved fingers gliding up her abs maddeningly slow and his hips pressing downward into hers and…

Her eyes snapped open and she squeezed her legs together, swiping a hand over her face in frustration. For her fantasies to take such a course wasn't particularly rare. When thinking about Ganondorf or Aveil saddened rather than aroused her when she needed to quell her lust, her imagination resorted to her new cohorts instead. For a while, Nappa or Raditz sufficed, but more often than not, they morphed to the prince on top of her or beneath her. Pressing her against a wall or into the mattress. Nipping and sucking along her neck while he pounded into her. 

The problem was that, since they started training together more often, the fantasies became more frequent and inopportune. She felt herself drifting from fantasizing to considering making it a reality. If Nappa and Raditz hadn’t shown up earlier, she might have tried her hand at shifting their spar to the sexual sor of physical. He was likely more pent up than she was, after all, and she didn’t miss the occasional glances or what she could only define as his brand of flirting while they sparred or conversed. It wasn’t the potential of being turned down that kept her from going for it. Besides caving to her lust for a quick fling conflicting with her attempts to only bed those she felt worthy of her time, it felt sleazy; he was her commander and she didn’t want some petty rift to form between the four of them over her libido deciding to ramp up to higher levels than she had experienced since joining the force. Even more unsettling, she refused to let meaningless sex get misconstrued and used against her for malicious purposes.

Still...if they were careful, no one had to know, and the forbidden lust concept and high stakes did shamefully boost the attractiveness of fooling around with Vegeta. And for all the potential bedmates to choose from, he was the easy choice. Strong, attractive, a sexy growl she wouldn’t mind hearing in her ear, high stamina, a penchant for roughness she guessed…

Nabooru huffed and did a quick scrub of her body, patience with cleaning up properly and relaxing thinned to nothing. She lifted herself out of the tub and flared her ki to dry herself off in a moment. She dug through her supplies and tended to her scrapes and bruises. More than anything she wanted a distraction from her worries about her homeworld. Something more palpable and effective than her thoughts wandering to a railing from the Saiyan prince. She imagined drowning herself in liquor would exacerbate the problem which left sparring, indulging in her fantasies, or sinking to the level of a one night stand with a stranger lurking around. If she played her cards right, perhaps she could get both of the first two options.

She grabbed her spare battle suit and tugged it on, followed by her stockings, boots and gloves. Tying her hair back up and picking up her chest armor, she left her room and trekked down the hall a few doors down. She knocked on the door and, no sooner had her arm returned to her side did the door open, Vegeta standing on the other side. He halted mid-pull on his glove over his fingers and stared, eyebrows knitting together and frown deepening.

“What?” he demanded, tugging the leather over the rest of his palm and down his wrist. 

Just that small, innocuous action had her staring for a half second longer at his hand than was socially acceptable. She cleared her throat and rested her hands on her hips, hoping her expression and stance displayed annoyance or impatience with his terse greeting and gruff tone. “Spar with me. I’m bored and need to blow off steam.”

“And what makes you think I want to?” Vegeta’s lips twitched upward and his tail unfurled from his waist. “You’ve hardly rested. How much steam could you really blow off if I put you down in a matter of minutes? It’s not as fun for me when you can’t put up a fight, either.”

Her grip on the strap of her armor tightened, an already fiery temper further exacerbated by Frieza’s message and the plague of her body’s betrayal and clouding her mind with lewd imagery. “What else do you have to do? Surely you didn’t plan to go find the other two.” Her nostrils flared with an agitated huff and she ignored the flicker of rage that flashed through obsidian. “You were probably going to hole up in your room for the next several hours and fiddle with your scouter or take a nap or brood over the next mission.”

Vegeta’s increasingly vexed demeanor, the vicious lashing of his tail behind him, did little to deter her rant. “Or maybe you’re going to sit in here and jerk off because you’re too good for anyone that could possibly take interest in a short, egotistical prince long enough for even a quick fuck is your damn hand or absolutely in--!”

The last syllable of her nonsense passed her lips as a pained hiss as, in that split second, Vegeta gripped her by the arm, yanked her into his room, and slammed her into the wall. She felt plaster crack from the force. “Hilarious coming from you when you’ve admitted to being just as pretentious about who you fuck,” he growled, hands on her shoulders to keep her pinned. He remained at arm’s length, his fingers digging into her shoulder blades with bruising force. His smirk returned. Slow. Predatory. The tip of his tail brushed along the swell of her hip. “Even more hilarious that you were about to call yourself insane. Tch, don’t act so surprised; you’re not very subtle and I’ve smelled arousal on you more than once during our spars.”

She closed her gaping mouth and heat surged into her cheeks. She wanted to challenge the claim, but she learned early on how powerful a Saiyan’s sense of smell was. “That’s hardly fair. How do you know it’s not just our fights themselves that get me excited and not necessarily who I’m fighting?”

One hand released her shoulder in favor of gripping her chin and forcing her gaze down to his. He forced his knee between her thighs, and she bit her bottom lip, proving him right in her lack of subtlety. It took everything in her to keep her composure and not grind her hips on his muscled thigh for even the barest amounts of stimulation. Though she may have kept her body still, she knew her hooded gaze, flushed cheeks, and worried lip betrayed the surge of desirous urgings her mind flooded her with. The stubborn air she attempted to maintain fell flat in light of it.

“We’re not fighting now.” His growl had deepened, and his gaze remained locked with hers. Sharp canines peeked from beneath his lips as his smirk widened. “You’re not fighting against this predicament you’re in, either. Your claims are a little contradictory, wouldn’t you say?”

She exhaled, lips remaining parted a touch. Her thoughts of regaining a semblance of ground in this exchange clashed with her desire to simply give in to whatever he planned to do with her, if anything outside of teasing her to near death was on his agenda. She could only come up with a compromise for both. She lifted the outside leg, sure to graze along his as much as possible and in slow motion, and wrapped it around his waist to pull him closer. A slight arch of her spine, and his gaze flicked straight to her chest and back again. She swallowed a pitiful whimper as the move shifted her hips against his thigh, too.

“Aren’t you just clever?” Nabooru pushed her hips forward to meet his (she silently cursed the cut of his armor and the guard that hung from the front and sides), her own lips curling upward. “But I’d say we’re both on the same page here. Thankfully. I love a good spar, but all in all, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for it, let alone using it to get you to shove me up against the wall like this.”

He snorted, and his hand dropped from her chin. It trailed down her throat, and she instinctively tilted her head back. It lingered there for a moment longer, a hint of pressure applied from his palm forcing her breath to hitch, before it slid down the center of her body. Between her breasts. Along her abdomen. He shifted his knee down just enough to allow room for his hand to slide between her legs. “Would have never guessed through that temper tantrum you threw.”

She tossed her previous reservations out the window and pressed down into his touch, a shaky breath easing past her lips. “So, I’m a little pent up,” she breathed. Her fingers dug into the wall behind her; just to have someone else’s fingers between her thighs, caressing her even through her battle suit, might have satisfied her for another few days. “I’m sure you understand. You obviously have something of a sex drive…”

Another growl rumbled in his chest and he eased the fabric to the side. The leather of his gloves offered a far more pleasing sensation than she expected, grazing along sensitive skin before parting the lips and delving between them. He pressed two fingers briefly against her entrance before sliding them back up, settling against her clitoris. He teased the bundle with slow circles and an intermittent jolt of measured ki that weakened her knees and jerked her hips forward. All the while, his gaze remained on her face, watching her every minute reaction.

One thought plunged through the clouded haze of pleasure dulling her reason: more. By the look on his face, the pleasure he took in torturing her, he would keep this up for hours. While better than spending that time on her own, lying in the unfamiliar hotel bed and searching for any creative way of fantasy she could to get herself with, she had to take advantage of what she had access to now before he could rescind the offer and send her on her way, dripping wet, desperate, and unsatisfied. That meant convincing him he needed her, too. For the moment.

With her unencumbered arm, she reached between their bodies. She shoved the front bit of his armor up and slid her hand beneath it, hand resting against his bulge. The motion of his fingers stuttered to a halt and she saw his jaw tighten. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked him through his battle suit. For added effect, she released a soft sight and rocked her hips against his hand. In his moment of surprise, she freed herself enough to lean down and flick her tongue over the shell of his ear.

“Do you really want to use your hand for this when you have me right here, Vegeta?”

As she hoped, it was like she flipped a switch. Vegeta released another growl and swatted her hand away, only to grab her waist, pull her from the wall, and shove her forward. Nabooru stumbled a step and fell face first onto the bed. She shifted back and planted her boots on the floor, hinged at the waist over the mattress and backside pushed enticingly outward. He was on her in a second, one hand squeezing her hip while the other likely released his cock from his suit.

A glint of red caught her eye in the moment's reprieve. His scouter. She reached for it, switched it off, and tossed it into a chair in the corner of the room. She had no intention of being particularly noisy in case Nappa or Raditz returned early,  but she didn't care to take chances with the scouter next to her head while he plowed her. This endeavor was risky enough for a multitude of reasons. No need to add on to it.

She cast a glance over her shoulder and bit her lip when he slipped his hand from her hip to slide the fabric aside once more.  The extra enticement of arching her spine further and pushing her hips out wasn’t needed as the Saiyan had no intention of dragging their meeting out any further. She stifled her gasp by burying her face in her forearm, and her fingers tangled into the too-crisp sheets beneath her. The brief pain when he plunged his full length inside of her subsided quickly, his teasing from before offering more than enough lubrication and her need being more prominent than a concern for being torn asunder. He remained still for the moment, likely to allow them both to adjust to the sudden change in stimulation, and she idly thought that he could probably stay still and she would probably still climax with how desperate she actually was. A shameful revelation when she touted herself as independent and above needing sex regularly. While still mostly true, her delight, her relief with finally having someone to pleasure her besides herself called it into question.

Toes curled in her boots as his hips shifted back from their flush positioning against hers, her worried bottom lip raw and a shudder raced down her spine at the sensation of feeling each inch slide through her until only his tip remained inside. The coarse fur on his tail tickled the bare portion of her thigh as it wound around it, squeezing and slipping into her stocking to caress her inner thigh. 

Just when she thought he had snapped out of the trance her taunt placed on him, that he would return to torturing her for his own amusement, Vegeta’s bruising grip returned to her hips and he thrust back into her with a stifled growl, the force shoving her forward and nearly off her feet. For added stability, she planted her free knee on the edge of the mattress, offering a slight shift in the angle of his penetration. She sank her teeth into the leather of her glove at her wrist and moaned, the pace he set brutal and swift, unforgiving and rough. Gold eyes glazed over as the lines between pain and pleasure blurred, a pleasant heat coiling low in her abdomen.

The trail of his touch as it glided from her hip and down the front of her suit bottoms felt like fire, and she pushed her hips up so the tips of his fingers would reach their target quicker. The simplest graze of her clitoris sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, and, as he rubbed the sensitive nub, he once more employed pulses of ki to heighten the sensation. 

Between gloved fingertips and the relentless thrust of his cock, Nabooru’s focus wavered from playing it safe to wanting to moan and scream his name at the top of her lungs. She wanted nothing more than to orgasm and feel him topple over the edge after her, and, to her mild surprise, he seemed keen on achieving both. The force of her bite left deep indentations in the sturdy leather, alabaster wet with drool upon release. She tucked her chin and squeezed her eyes shut, murmured, desperate praises of the Saiyan prince dripping from her lips as the heat in her belly coiled tighter and threatened to break. 

She chanced a glance over her shoulder, lips pressed tightly together and trapping her mewls in her throat. His hooded gaze lifted from the point of contact, over the swell of her backside and up her spine to meet her lusty stare. A chuckle rumbled in his chest and his smirk returned just as he sent a more potent, constant shock through his fingers. Her eyes grew wide and she just managed to slap her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. Her legs wobbled beneath her and her whole body arched sharply downward with the force of her climax, each wave stronger than the last. 

Vegeta jammed himself fully inside her again amidst her walls tightly clamping around him. A growl ripped from his throat and Nabooru felt him bend over her back, his own body quaking with his climax and his fluids filling her. She moved her hips with his to ride her orgasm out with him, indulging in the slower pace. The sensation of him inside her and the heat that flooded her body. The dull, pleasant ache that already bloomed between her legs. The slight twinge of pain where he held her that preceded bruises in the shape of his fingertips.

Finally, she felt his tail unwind from her thigh and he pulled out of her. As if it was all that kept her upright, she let her body sag to the mattress, her legs squeezing together as another spasm wracked her body. Though quicker and less involved than she preferred, their quick romp accomplished what she needed. Bliss blanked her mind of little more than the prospect of asking for another round and rest. She knew the former would be pushing her luck, however. She could only guess why he had only just now caved along with her, but she imagined this would not be a regular occurrence no matter how much her addled mind wished it could be.

With a soft sigh, she reached back and trailed her fingers along the leg seams of her bottoms, pulling the pliant fabric back up and over her ass. She twisted around onto her back and sat up just as Vegeta tucked himself back into his pants and righted his armor. Another con of their coupling: she hadn't gotten to his toned body bare. They touched each only where necessary. The curse of trying to be quick. As efficient to release as possible.

Nabooru rose to her feet and busied herself with fixing her ponytail, loosened by the rough sex. Arms raised, she paused and her lips twitched in a smile when she caught him watching her, his tail swaying in contentment behind him. When he realized she noticed, he growled and looked away, heading to the corner of the room to retrieve his scouter. 

"What are you standing around for?" he snarled, putting his scouter back on. "Get going."

She finished tying her hair up and chuckled. "You sure you don't want a little show or something?" She picked up her abandoned armor and let it hang from her crooked index finger. "I'm rusty, but I bet I can still manage a pretty tantalizing strip tease."

"Go before that tiny brain of yours comes up with any more ridiculous suggestions." He wrapped his tail around his waist again and lowered himself into a nearby chair. He rested his ankle on his knee. "This won't happen again."

Nabooru ignored the twinge of longing that came with his statement; she knew that from the start, didn't she? She went this long without indulging in her desires so she should be set for another three or four years.

She reached out and pressed the button to open the doors. "I'll see you later, then." She fought the urge to glance back at him, cast him a teasing wink, a brush of her hand along her hip, some enticing image for him to stew on, and strode out into the hall and back to her own room.