Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dangerous Love (Revised) ❯ Repetitive Dreams and Images ( Chapter 2 )

Dislcaimer: I don't own DragonballZ or any of the characters appearing in the show. Although I do have a dark desire within myself to own Vegeta. Any other characters are of my own creation and therefore are mine.

 

Chapter 2: Repetitive Dreams and Images

 

A cry reached out into the night, piercing the aching silence. Bulma sat up quickly, a fine sheet of sweat coating her entire body. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, trying to get out through her ribcage. It had been her own cry that had roused her from her sleep. It had been her cry that had pierced the dead room. It was her cry that said everything and nothing at the same time. Her cry of pleasure.

 

She blinked blearily around the room, shadows and dark outlines indicating it was still very late. Morning had hours yet before its arrival. She closed her eyes, taking in deep breaths, trying desperately to get enough spit to swallow in her desert of a mouth.

 

Had it been a dream? Had the feel of his hands and his lips on her skin been a figment of her imagination. A figment so real, it left her breathless with wanting? She sighed heavily into the renewed growing silence, shaking her head slowly. Her silken blue tresses swayed with her head, their damp tangled masses whipping her in the face. Her thoughts wavered in her head, bringing her heart to a halting stop.

 

"Of course it had been a dream." She whispered hoarsely, the threat to tears not far behind. Why did the thought that it had been only a dream, and not a reality, bring her to her knees? Why did this thought make crystalline tears form at the back of her eyes and stow sorrow into her heart?

 

"Because, you are a moron." She stated, throwing the thick violet woven quilt from her body. It lay in a rumpled mess to her left as she scooted to the end of her king sized bed. She slid her tiny feet to the floor, a shiver running the length of her body. The wooded surface was the temperature of death on its finest day, chilling the living to the center of each bone.

 

She padded stealthily to the balcony doors, pushing them open with the slightest of movements. Night air kissed her dream damp face and she sighed softly in slight relief. The air was fresh with the scent of a small storm, the smell of grass and cleanliness on the wind. She took a deep breath that filled her lungs to the brim, wishing that the clean air could clear her tainted mind as well.

 

She scooted onto the balcony, the cold concrete piercing the sensitive skin of her feet, but her face remained stoic, giving no hint of her inner thoughts. She walked to the bright white steel railing, running her fingertips over the cool metal, her glittering sapphire eyes for the sky above.

 

The sky was a swirling mass of black, stars glittering in its vast existence. The light that surrounded those small specks in the sky illuminated the grass of Capsule Corporation, giving life to the night. She let out a long sigh, her breath appearing as white fog spilt from her lips. The wind captured it, and yanked it away.

 

It was the fourth time in a month she had been stirred from her sleep with such a dream. She lifted a trembling hand in front her face, the sweat now cooled and drying. Her silk sapphire negligee clinging uncomfortably to her damp skin.

 

The wind lashed at her violently, her hair whipping behind her. It knocked the balcony doors against the walls and she heard a distant sound of glass breaking. Probably one of her perfume bottles from her vanity. The concern that should have been there wasn't.

 

The wind died down, but it grew cooler, slamming into her again. Her pink nipples contracted, the hardened peaks poking at the sensitive material of her gown. Bumps marched down her ivory arms, a shudder slicking her body, leaving her breathless.

 

Why did she continue to dream of hands coated with innocent's suffering? Why did she long for a set of intense obsidian eyes raking down her delicate body, leaving their mark? Why did she long for him?

 

"You are such the fool," she whispered, her words captured by the gentle lulling of the wind. Despite the chilling wind and calming outside world, the intense heat at the apex of her thighs still pulsated strongly. The remnants of her dream still whispered against her mind, sending strings of heat to her already knotted stomach.

 

She could feel the strength beneath his flesh, that unyielding power. The wandering of his eyes as they caressed her fragile form.

 

A shuddered moan stirred the sleeping world, birds calling back. Bulma realized the moan had originated from within her, and a bright hue of red graced her alabaster cheeks.

 

"For cripes sake." She muttered into the night. "You can come up with a logical explanation for this Bulma." She breathed in deeply, letting her breath take the form of fog that floated away into the night. What was the explanation to the erotic dreams she had been having? Could it have been something she was eating before she took to the world of dreams?

 

"That has to be it." She stated flatly, slamming a dainty fist into her hand.

 

A frown slowly slid over her angelic features and she closed her eyes, slapping her forehead. Of course that wasn't it. Food before bed could induce sleep talking, walking, and nightmares, but not erotic fantasies.

 

Wouldn't you consider that a nightmare? Her thoughts brushed against her skull, sending a shiver down her body, head to toe.

 

"I'm not sure if dreaming about having sex with a dead sexy man would be considered a nightmare." She spat angrily and the blood rushed back into her cheeks.

 

No, most women would not consider dreaming of Vegeta fucking them to be a nightmare. Any girl that had a sex drive that worked properly wanted a piece of that man. His intense obsidian eyes, roaming the plains and curves of your body. His callused hands handling your delicate body, knowing at any moment he could rip you apart if he so desired.

 

You wanted to be at the mercy of a ruthless killer, begging for him to brush those soft lips down the naked flesh of your body until he reached the core of your desire. The core of that heat pulsating within your veins. You wanted to impale yourself upon that thick piece of flesh that lay between his muscular thighs.

 

Another moan escaped the barrier of Bulma's lips and she shivered, hugging herself. Having thoughts about a murderer claiming her body as his territory was not something she thought she would normally do. But there she was, imagining all of the possible sex positions they could try together.

 

Deciding to save herself from the dangers of her mind, Bulma turned on her heel and stomped back into her room, only pausing long enough to shove the balcony doors closed. Her aqua eyes violated the room as they eyed every line that stood out in the dark, searching for some unknown danger.

 

She half expected Vegeta to be lurking in a dark corner, and she squinted her eyes to search the room more thoroughly. He didn't pop out of one of the room's shadows and suddenly shout `boo', but somehow that didn't calm Bulma's racing heart. She still feared he would catch wind of the thoughts she possessed, and in his possession, they would be a dangerous tool against her. She couldn't quite figure out how, but Vegeta would use the information to the best of his advantage. He was good for it.

 

Her eyes slid over to at the electric clock that sat on her bedside table and almost slapped herself. She wanted to take up the nearest heavy object and throw it through the wall.

 

"Four fucking twenty three in the fucking morning." She muttered, more colorful words pressing at the back of her throat. 4:23 in the morning and she was ready to go out and screw the nearest human being that had the right limbs to do so. 4:23 in the morning and her sensitive bud was slicked to the dripping point with the need for a masculine touch. Not just any masculine touch, but none other than his.

 

"No!" She croaked, covering her face with slender trembling hands. "I do not need him, in any way shape or form. I can find good passionate sex elsewhere." She muttered, trying to convince herself that there were in fact other men that had the same capabilities Vegeta did. Or at least the same capabilities as Vegeta did in bed.

 

Even though she would want to hunt out a man to satisfy her needs, she would have a while to wait. It was still early, and bar hopping time didn't start until 6 p.m. The first thought that came to mind to calm herself down was a nice long hot shower. She could soak herself in the heated liquid and let it cleanse her of her impure thoughts.

 

She gave a short nod in affirmation of her own thought pattern and scuttled over to her dresser. Her foot stopped short of stepping on something glittering in the dark, and a stench reached her nose in strong proportions. The gag reflex she had so desperately learned to control contracted and she felt her eyes water over. She loved the smell of her perfume in small amounts, but all at once was almost nauseating.

 

"Moonlight Seduction." She spat, rolling her eyes. Of course it had to be her favorite perfume that ended up all over the wooded floor. Like the old saying went, there was no use crying over spilt perfume. After all, she could always buy another bottle.

 

She scuttled around the scattered mess, continuing to her original destination. Her dresser. She slowly picked through her top drawer, trying to find the right pair of underwear for the day. She had an assortment of cotton, lace, and silk underwear, so she could wear fabric depending upon her mood type.

 

She wasn't feeling particularly sexy at the moment so silk was out of the question. Lace was reserved for lovers, and cotton was reserved for comfort. She decided that since she wasn't going out guy hunting until later in the evening, cotton would do until then.

 

Instead of showering she could dress, work on her new hovercraft engine for the day, and then begin to get ready for hunting at 5:30. She would be done by 7 and still have plenty of time to find a decent male to play with. She yanked out a pair of white cotton underwear, with a white sports bra to match. Next came a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt.

 

She discarded her sleeping clothes in a rush of profanity and stumbling, but managed to undress unscathed. Her fresh clothing came on next and she was set to conquer the world. She was ready to rule the universe. Let no one stand against her, for she would run them down.

 

She just hoped Vegeta didn't appear anywhere, then she might have to change her undies, after wetting her former pair.