Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Light in the Darkness ❯ A Secret Confession ( Chapter 23 )

A Light in the Darkness - part 23: A Secret Confession
by Mia Skywalker & Wataruo

PAIRING: Vegeta/Bulma
RATING: X
WARNINGS: Lemon
DISCLAIMER: Neither of us owns any of the DBZ characters or anything about DBZ, but we both wish we owned the Saiyans. All of them. At least all of the ones with hair. These characters are owned by Toei, Viz, Akira Toriyama, and FUNimation. We do own what we've written here, and our specific storyline, just not Dragonball itself. We make no money off of any of these guys, nor off this fic. We just have fun writing it.
SUMMARY: Fights, lemons, and a secret confession.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Thanks to saiyengerl for the beta!

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In her workshed, Bulma looked up, suddenly aware that the two had returned. She discovered to her dismay that somehow she had been anticipating it, as though this was what she had been waiting for all day. She closed her eyes in resignation, wondering why she felt this... need... to be around Vegeta. What hold did he have over her? There was a kind of shivery fear inside herself at the idea that he could use that need to control her, that he might be able to hurt her, and she would be helpless against him.

 

::Please don't let that be the case, Kami,:: she prayed.

 

Vegeta rolled his eyes as Gohan shouted. For a moment, he was a little envious of the young boy's energy. Right now the Prince of the Saiyans felt tired. Maybe the kid was better than he thought. Or Bulma had worn him out more than he had thought.

 

He stopped in mid-step. Bulma. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could imagine her body writhing underneath his. He could recall her scent, the taste of her skin, the silky feel of her hair against his fingertips.

 

Vegeta could feel a familiar tightening in his groin. Stop it, he commanded himself. He was not going to lose control over a woman. But it was a battle the Prince had no defense against. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had been without a lover for a long time, and Bulma was the nearest female who wouldn't run screaming from him when he showed up at her bedroom door.

 

Instead of heading towards the kitchen, Vegeta turned on his heel and headed towards Bulma's workshed. Whatever it was that Vegeta had intended to do as he reached her fled the moment his gaze settled on her form.

 

Bulma was covered from head to foot in grime. Whatever she had been doing had her covered in dirt and grease, which the prince found incredibly appealing. What he wanted now was to strip her and make love to Bulma again, right there on her work room floor. Instead of giving in to the dictates of his hormones, he leaned against the doorframe and studied her for several long minutes, then took several steadying breaths and spoke.

 

"What have you been doing, woman? You are a mess."

 

Bulma colored in mortification at his words. She hadn't even considered what her work would do to her. But Vegeta had seen her many times when she had been working, and other than a noncommittal grunt, he usually hadn't said anything. Other than to insult her, of course. Just as he was doing now. Why had she thought it would change? She had no idea why he had sought her out, just to insult her this way. In the past he had tended to ignore her, reserving his insults for times when they just happened to be in the same area.

 

She was tempted to burst into tears, his insults hurt her so deeply. Once again, it confused her that she would be so hurt by his words; why would she care what he thought? As was her wont, when she was hurt or confused or afraid, she covered it with anger. Her eyes narrowed as she snapped furiously at him,

 

"And what business is it of yours, radish head? All you do is fight, eat, and sleep! You do nothing constructive all day; the most 'constructive' thing you do is blow things up! Besides," she looked pointedly at his own appearance, "I may be a mess, but you're not only a mess, your clothes are as well, and you've got blood all over you! At least I manage not to get injured when I'm working!"

 

Vegeta snorted and continued his silent perusal of her. She had no idea how appealing he found her right then; her face flushed, her eyes snapping with anger.

 

"It was a good day," he said dryly and pushed away from the doorframe to stride towards her. "What would be the point of sparring and not getting dirty?"

 

Vegeta stopped when he was face-to-face with her, his nose almost but not quite touching hers. "You even managed to get grime in your eyebrows. Keep this up, woman, and you'll be a brunette," he said wiping a bit of dirt from her forehead with his thumb.

 

Bulma glowered at him. "I hope that Gohan beat the crap out of you," she said, deliberately reminding him of his first arrival on that planet.

 

He gave her a smug grin. "Actually the brat was quite helpful." He wiped another smudge off her face, this time his thumb brushed her cheek. "Taught me another attack."

 

"Helpful?" she snarled at him, unnerved by the way he kept touching her, but not willing to show it. "How was that 'helpful'?"

 

"It is always helpful to know your opponents, woman," he said. He had continued to wipe her face clean of smudges. "And knowing another attack is always useful."

 

"Opponents? You still consider a six-year-old child an opponent? When are you going to start picking on someone your own size?" Then she looked him up and down in a deliberately insulting manner. "Oh, I forgot. There aren't too many opponents small enough for you, are there? I guess that leaves you to bullying women and children then."

 

Vegeta surprised her by smiling. He reached around behind her and pulled her flush against his pelvis so she could feel how aroused he really was. "I find it odd you didn't mention my size earlier." He pulled her tighter against his hips and he had to stifle a groan at the contact. "I heard no complaints then."

 

Bulma gasped at the contact, as the heat of his arousal penetrated through her clothing, managing to touch the center of her. Despite her attempts not to, she had been thinking about him most of the morning, remembering his touches and kisses, unintentionally keeping herself in a state of arousal all day. The abrupt contact caused heat to flare out from her own pelvis, igniting tingles of delight at the tips of her fingers, toes, and breasts. Her nipples hardened where they were pressed against his chest, and she could feel both of their hearts pounding hard and fast. She tried to convince herself that she didn't want this, that this wasn't what she wanted, but knew that it was a lost cause.

 

"Well, woman?" he asked. "Nothing to say?"

 

He brought his mouth to hers, without even giving her a chance to reply. He kissed her slowly, passionately, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against his. One of his hands found its way underneath her blouse to caress her skin and was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure as his hand captured her breast and began to knead it gently.

 

"I didn't think so," he murmured as he continued to toy with her breast, causing her to arch against him.

 

Bulma whimpered as she trembled against him. Her hands slipped around his back, touching him lightly, as she instinctively pressed her breast more deeply against his hand. She wasn't capable of speech, let alone thought, as all thought and reason fled her completely.

 

Vegeta trailed kisses to her throat, grazing his teeth against her tender skin. He kissed his way to the opening of her shirt while his hands were busy doing other things. One was still teasing her breast, the other had found its way to the snap of her jeans and worked it free.

 

Bulma trembled helplessly under his caresses, her hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She couldn't have moved from his gentle embrace any more than if he had chained her with bars of solid steel, so firmly had he trapped her. Vegeta managed to work the buttons on the top of her blouse loose, causing it to fall open slightly, and he licked the tops of her breasts with his tongue. She shuddered, her eyes closing, her fingers clenching instinctively on the solid muscles of his arms.

 

He continued unbuttoning her blouse, freeing the hand on her breast to do so, and then lifted her hands from his shoulders to let the blouse fall from her shoulders and to the floor. With his other hand he had already managed to unbutton her jeans, and he slid them down as well, then pressed her more fully against him.

 

She groaned at the contact of his skin-tight bodysuit pressing against her bare flesh; there was something incredibly erotic about the feel of it on her skin. As he continued to taste the tops of her breasts and the valley between them, he lifted both hands and slid the straps of her brassiere off her shoulders, exposing the full glory of her breasts to his gaze, to his mouth. He ran his tongue along a breast, encircling around the edges of it, gradually moving in a spiral towards the center. She shivered in anticipation as his tongue moved closer and closer, not quite touching....

 

Then he reached the aureole, and licked her nipple, causing her to arch backward in anticipated desire. He encircled the nipple with his lips, drawing it into his mouth and sucking lightly on it. She whimpered again, quaking with desire, and his hands slowly slid down her sides, to her hips, sliding her panties down her thighs, letting them fall off her.

 

He lifted her suddenly in his arms, not removing his mouth from her breast, and felt her melt against him unconsciously. That thought made him smile with a hint of satisfaction, something he never would have admitted to anyone.

 

He lay her down on one of the benches, then knelt on the floor next to her, gazing down at her as she lay gloriously nude before him. She was too far gone with desire to feel embarrassment or shame; she reached up for him, pulling his mouth back again to her breast, her fingers entangling in his hair as she demanded that he stay there. He suckled her breast, reaching one hand to stroke her face gently, and the other moved down to her womanhood, tangling briefly in the soft curls there. She automatically opened her legs for him, and he slid his hand over the mound, slipping a finger inside of her and stroking her gently. She bucked against him; he could feel her wetness on his hand, as her desire was obvious for him. Knowing that she was close to the edge, he stood up and shed his clothing at Saiyan speed, then straddled the bench so he was facing her.

 

She reached for him desperately and he smirked knowingly at her, knowing how desperate she was for him, how much she needed and desired him of all people. He, Vegeta, her hated enemy; she wanted and needed him to make love to her, to claim and conquer her, to take her where no one else had ever taken her. He leaned forward, once again taking a breast in his mouth, as he allowed himself to slide into her.

 

She arched against him, crying out, and he thrust more deeply into her. He could feel her trembling under him, and he lifted himself up, lifting her legs to his shoulders and wrapping them around him, allowing himself to drive more deeply inside of her. He watched her quivering with desire and arousal, as he thrust deeply and intensely into her.

 

When she climaxed at last, feeling wave after wave of pleasure thunder over her, drowning out all other sound and thought and light and feeling, he found himself going over the edge as well, and he climaxed with a roar, spilling his seed inside of her, claiming her once again as his own.

 

Vegeta wasn't sure if he could even move as he panted against Bulma's ear. And he didn't even want to. Vegeta wanted to stay right where he was. He was satisfied to discover that Bulma seemed as weak as he felt. So he did affect you. She did want him. He had no idea why this pleased him, but there was something gratifying in the way she responded to him.

 

He shifted forward to kiss her deeply before looking into her face. "Now you really need a bath," he said.

 

Bulma stirred under him, looking up into his face. She wasn't sure she could read the intense expression on it. She could never tell what he was thinking, what he wanted. She flushed, feeling the sweat of lovemaking on her skin. She had no idea why he kept doing this to her; he would touch her as though he wanted her and desired her, as though maybe she meant something to him, and then he would act like it meant nothing.

 

Maybe it didn't to him. Who knew how many women he had been with? He hadn't known she was a virgin when he had slept with her the first time. That probably didn't even matter to him. And now that she was not, she was fair game. She closed her eyes and shuddered again. If only she could control her own desire for him, and not need him so much, maybe....

 

Vegeta frowned down at her. That wasn't exactly the reaction he had wanted. But then he didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know what to expect from her. She seemed to want him, then she would withdraw from him. Who knew? He shrugged it off. She was human, he didn't even want to try to understand her. But if that was the case, why did he feel the sudden need to apologize?

 

He said nothing as he stared down into her face, then withdrew and moved away from her. "I'll use your shower," he said. "Care to join me?"

 

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No," she said softly, sitting up and drawing her knees up against her chest. "I'll wait until you're finished." She huddled on the bench, suddenly feeling bereft, wondering why she was feeling so alone and abandoned all of a sudden.

 

Vegeta shrugged, trying not to feel so disappointed. "As you wish." He headed for the shower. "But you know where to find me if you want me."

 

"If I want him," she whispered, as she heard the shower turn on, and then laughed softly, mirthlessly. Tears overflowed her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, as she realized how much she wanted him, how much she already seemed to need him. She didn't understand this desire to be around him all the time, to have him touch her, to have him hold her.

 

She sensed that it went more deeply than the lovemaking they did; that was good - incredible might be a better word - but that wasn't really all she wanted. It's just that she knew she could never get what she truly wanted from him, what she truly needed. What did she want from him? What was she looking for? Love?

 

She held her knees more tightly. No, she could have had that from Yamcha, but it meant nothing. Vegeta couldn't love. Saiyans don't love, he had said that before. It was a weakness, something Saiyans didn't have. She could feel her heart breaking at the thought, and suddenly knew exactly what it was she felt and needed from him, and what she could never have.

 

"Aishiteru, Vegeta," she whispered softly, as she buried her face in her knees and wept.

 

To be continued.....

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And in the next exciting episode of DragonBall Z: A Light in the Darkness... Vegeta's reaction.

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