Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dangerous Love (Revised) ❯ Similar Thoughts ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Typicalteen 
It seems Bulma isn't the only one with erotic images plaguing her pretty little head. *grins wolfishly*
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Action / Suspense / Fantasy / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 10.04.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 320 | Status: Work In Progress
It seems Bulma isn't the only one with erotic images plaguing her pretty little head. *grins wolfishly*
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Action / Suspense / Fantasy / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 10.04.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 320 | Status: Work In Progress
Don’t own DBZ, wish I did, but I don’t. Any other characters and the outlines of this story are completely mine and I lay down my rights to them. Do not steal and I hope you enjoy. Thanks. ^_^
Chapter Three: Similar Thoughts
Vegeta ran his thick fingers through his spiky obsidian colored hair. His head lolled forward as the spray of scolding water assaulted the tight, scarred expanse of his back, drumming at the knots that decorated his muscles so persistently. A small groan escaped his lips, echoing eerily against the bathroom walls, whispering back at him, scraping along his ears. The sound was so much like an admittance to pain that he scowled, his onyx eyes snapping open in disgust.
“I do not feel pain,” he growled, slamming his clenched fist into the sapphire tiled wall. It dented, several of the tiles splintering and splashing into the tub at his feet as spider cracks webbed themselves up towards the ceiling. He removed his fist slowly, more debris falling from the movement and he scoffed down at the glittering pieces that lay at his feet. The water somehow caught the mystic blue and turned it into glittering gems of fascination.
His mind suddenly began to race, his heart slowly accelerating as his thoughts flashed to two glowing sapphire orbs of life. Two shimmering points of emotion that belonged on a delicate face. A smooth, perfect face that haunted his mind and soul with each intake of breath, each beat of his heart. He could see her smile curling those full lips, sending fluttering butterflies through his rigid abs and making his loins ache. He could stare at the dance of her silken aqua tresses, trying to determine if they were as silky as they appeared, wishing he could run his thick fingers through them.
Vegeta growled loudly, snapping his head back and forth to scatter the images and thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t believe how much that woman distracted him! She would not be his undoing, she would not taint his mind with her impurity and such human encased emotions. Emotions were simply a sign of weakness and vulnerability and he would never give into such things, especially not ones that involved physical attraction. Never physical attraction, especially not towards a tiny, pathetic little being like Bulma.
Bulma was a stuck up, snotty, spoiled, pampered, princess. She deserved to have havoc wrought upon her very existence, just so she could experience the hell and suffering of the real word. The thought of her perfect little world made Vegeta angry. Anger snatched at his blackened heart, clenching it tight. Anger knotted his stomach into a tight compulsion so that it was hard to think past the pain. He made his breath ragged and his fists clench open and closed. Her perfect world. Her perfect life. Her perfect…lips and shining eyes.
He let his head tip backwards so the obsidian locks of his thick hair were ensnared by the steady stream of water, pulling the tresses backwards to trail down his hard sculpted back. His muscles rippled as the heat sunk until his skull, sending a tremble through the fine sculpted line of his body. He had the oddest desire to gather her delicate form into his strong warm arms and press his lips to the tempting curve of hers. The way she smiled drove him wild, made his body react in a way that should have seemed impossible.
He wanted to descend his lips upon hers and steal her breath, giving her his very own. He wanted to kiss her until she could no longer breath and depended on him to keep her going. He wanted to kiss her until he had drunk up every last drop of her enticing shimmering pure soul.
He was painfully aware of the fullness of his need, the tight, throbbing, hot desire that pulsated further down his body. The protruding limb that refused to go unnoticed. The limb that demanded the attention his mind so clearly pressed upon him.
He would not give in to simple desire. He needed to distract himself. He tried to flash back on the battles he had when still in Freiza’s corruptive web. The Ice-Jinn stealing his life and spreading havoc over the universe. Freiza always brought anger boiling to the surface, but Vegeta felt eerily calm, his thoughts slowly drifting back to the one thing he so desperately wanted to avoid.
The flames of his slowly burning passion for her delicate, curved, soft body slowly burned, consuming his soul and body. He wanted her to be helpless under the onslaught of his mouth as he spread hot, fiery kisses on her alabaster skin. He wanted her to dance beneath his hard body, squirming, bucking her hips against him, aching for more. He wanted to run his calloused hands over her soft skin, cupping at her breasts, lapping at the smooth line of her neck until he found the hardened peak of her nipples. He wanted to lap at them, pinch them between his teeth, rolling the tip against his tongue until she grew moist, her juices dripping over the bed, enticing him, inviting him into her body.
Vegeta had slowly slipped a hand down his rippled stomach, taking the weight of his erection into his palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, a grunt escaping his lips. The heat that fanned his skin was steadily growing and it had nothing to do with the hot spray of water pouring over his form, making his skin slick with glistening beads of water. The sensation of the slickness, combined with the erotic images that plagued his tainted mind were enough. The lust rose darkly into his mind, creating a firestorm of drowning, spinning, consuming desire.
His hand slowly pumped over his cock, the motion yanking a growl from his throat. The sound was feral, so primitive, so wild that it drove another one from his lips and he shuddered violently. He could almost imagine burying himself within the velvet tightness of her damp treasure. The most private part of her body, inviting him, clutching at his hardened member, desperately, thoroughly, completely.
A soft sigh escaped his lips and he placed a single hand on the shower wall to brace himself, his fingers picking up an almost maddening rhythm. An almost desperate rhythm. His hunger for her was ravenous and it etched a line of fire through him, enveloping his senses completely. He wanted to trail his lips down the smoothness of her belly until he found the wetness of her core. He wanted to pass his lips over her dripping lips, teasing her, evoking tiny noises from her. Noises of ecstasy, noises of wanting, noises of frustration. He wanted to dance the tip of his tongue over her aching bud, to tease her, taunt her into screaming, pleading, begging for more. He wanted to lap her juices up like a kitten nursing, suckling for precious life-sustaining milk. Lap up every drop of her essence and savor each drop like they were the drops of sweet life. The nectar of life.
He grinned wolfishly as he imagined taking her swollen bud into his impossibly hot, moist, skillful mouth. Rolling her bud between his teeth, lapping at it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue until she trembled and arced her back for him. Until she thrust her full bountiful breasts into the air and cried for him to take her towards the heavens. For him to bring her to the edge and push her over only to catch her safely in the end. He would bring her higher and higher until she reached the point of explosion and then simply stop, enjoying the cries of frustration she would spew at him. He would then blow his hot breath against her doubly aching bud and begin the torture again, two-fold this time.
His mouth was dry as he imagined sliding a single finger into her tight entrance, his mouth claiming her bud once more. His hand squeezed almost painfully at his throbbing cock, his pressure growing with each pump of his clenching hand. He licked his dry lips and moaned loudly, tossing his head back, his eyes closed. He could feel the softness of her skin over his one roaming hand. He could taste the sweetness of her juices on his relentless tongue. He could feel the tightness of her core clenching at his probing finger. He could hear her breath panting out heavily as she squirmed, emitting tiny, beautiful, sensual noises.
His breath rushed out as he began to reach his climax, so close. So close and he dug his fingertips into the tiles of the wall, the delicate material cracking under his strength. He felt it coming. The aching, burning pressure of his orgasm climbing towards the edge of oblivion. He slowly slid to his knees in the tub, his awareness of his surroundings dissipating quickly. His breath quickened, his chest heaving with the aching to keep himself in some form of control. He growled, the sound echoing as he reached the edge, he was about to fall over. He was about to plunge into the soothing warmness of the abyss of pleasure when the knock came. The knock on the door shattered his images and his concentration and he gasped loudly, falling back to his butt on the wet tub floor, gasping for breath, fury sliding into the onyx orbs of his eyes.
Chapter Three: Similar Thoughts
Vegeta ran his thick fingers through his spiky obsidian colored hair. His head lolled forward as the spray of scolding water assaulted the tight, scarred expanse of his back, drumming at the knots that decorated his muscles so persistently. A small groan escaped his lips, echoing eerily against the bathroom walls, whispering back at him, scraping along his ears. The sound was so much like an admittance to pain that he scowled, his onyx eyes snapping open in disgust.
“I do not feel pain,” he growled, slamming his clenched fist into the sapphire tiled wall. It dented, several of the tiles splintering and splashing into the tub at his feet as spider cracks webbed themselves up towards the ceiling. He removed his fist slowly, more debris falling from the movement and he scoffed down at the glittering pieces that lay at his feet. The water somehow caught the mystic blue and turned it into glittering gems of fascination.
His mind suddenly began to race, his heart slowly accelerating as his thoughts flashed to two glowing sapphire orbs of life. Two shimmering points of emotion that belonged on a delicate face. A smooth, perfect face that haunted his mind and soul with each intake of breath, each beat of his heart. He could see her smile curling those full lips, sending fluttering butterflies through his rigid abs and making his loins ache. He could stare at the dance of her silken aqua tresses, trying to determine if they were as silky as they appeared, wishing he could run his thick fingers through them.
Vegeta growled loudly, snapping his head back and forth to scatter the images and thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t believe how much that woman distracted him! She would not be his undoing, she would not taint his mind with her impurity and such human encased emotions. Emotions were simply a sign of weakness and vulnerability and he would never give into such things, especially not ones that involved physical attraction. Never physical attraction, especially not towards a tiny, pathetic little being like Bulma.
Bulma was a stuck up, snotty, spoiled, pampered, princess. She deserved to have havoc wrought upon her very existence, just so she could experience the hell and suffering of the real word. The thought of her perfect little world made Vegeta angry. Anger snatched at his blackened heart, clenching it tight. Anger knotted his stomach into a tight compulsion so that it was hard to think past the pain. He made his breath ragged and his fists clench open and closed. Her perfect world. Her perfect life. Her perfect…lips and shining eyes.
He let his head tip backwards so the obsidian locks of his thick hair were ensnared by the steady stream of water, pulling the tresses backwards to trail down his hard sculpted back. His muscles rippled as the heat sunk until his skull, sending a tremble through the fine sculpted line of his body. He had the oddest desire to gather her delicate form into his strong warm arms and press his lips to the tempting curve of hers. The way she smiled drove him wild, made his body react in a way that should have seemed impossible.
He wanted to descend his lips upon hers and steal her breath, giving her his very own. He wanted to kiss her until she could no longer breath and depended on him to keep her going. He wanted to kiss her until he had drunk up every last drop of her enticing shimmering pure soul.
He was painfully aware of the fullness of his need, the tight, throbbing, hot desire that pulsated further down his body. The protruding limb that refused to go unnoticed. The limb that demanded the attention his mind so clearly pressed upon him.
He would not give in to simple desire. He needed to distract himself. He tried to flash back on the battles he had when still in Freiza’s corruptive web. The Ice-Jinn stealing his life and spreading havoc over the universe. Freiza always brought anger boiling to the surface, but Vegeta felt eerily calm, his thoughts slowly drifting back to the one thing he so desperately wanted to avoid.
The flames of his slowly burning passion for her delicate, curved, soft body slowly burned, consuming his soul and body. He wanted her to be helpless under the onslaught of his mouth as he spread hot, fiery kisses on her alabaster skin. He wanted her to dance beneath his hard body, squirming, bucking her hips against him, aching for more. He wanted to run his calloused hands over her soft skin, cupping at her breasts, lapping at the smooth line of her neck until he found the hardened peak of her nipples. He wanted to lap at them, pinch them between his teeth, rolling the tip against his tongue until she grew moist, her juices dripping over the bed, enticing him, inviting him into her body.
Vegeta had slowly slipped a hand down his rippled stomach, taking the weight of his erection into his palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, a grunt escaping his lips. The heat that fanned his skin was steadily growing and it had nothing to do with the hot spray of water pouring over his form, making his skin slick with glistening beads of water. The sensation of the slickness, combined with the erotic images that plagued his tainted mind were enough. The lust rose darkly into his mind, creating a firestorm of drowning, spinning, consuming desire.
His hand slowly pumped over his cock, the motion yanking a growl from his throat. The sound was feral, so primitive, so wild that it drove another one from his lips and he shuddered violently. He could almost imagine burying himself within the velvet tightness of her damp treasure. The most private part of her body, inviting him, clutching at his hardened member, desperately, thoroughly, completely.
A soft sigh escaped his lips and he placed a single hand on the shower wall to brace himself, his fingers picking up an almost maddening rhythm. An almost desperate rhythm. His hunger for her was ravenous and it etched a line of fire through him, enveloping his senses completely. He wanted to trail his lips down the smoothness of her belly until he found the wetness of her core. He wanted to pass his lips over her dripping lips, teasing her, evoking tiny noises from her. Noises of ecstasy, noises of wanting, noises of frustration. He wanted to dance the tip of his tongue over her aching bud, to tease her, taunt her into screaming, pleading, begging for more. He wanted to lap her juices up like a kitten nursing, suckling for precious life-sustaining milk. Lap up every drop of her essence and savor each drop like they were the drops of sweet life. The nectar of life.
He grinned wolfishly as he imagined taking her swollen bud into his impossibly hot, moist, skillful mouth. Rolling her bud between his teeth, lapping at it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue until she trembled and arced her back for him. Until she thrust her full bountiful breasts into the air and cried for him to take her towards the heavens. For him to bring her to the edge and push her over only to catch her safely in the end. He would bring her higher and higher until she reached the point of explosion and then simply stop, enjoying the cries of frustration she would spew at him. He would then blow his hot breath against her doubly aching bud and begin the torture again, two-fold this time.
His mouth was dry as he imagined sliding a single finger into her tight entrance, his mouth claiming her bud once more. His hand squeezed almost painfully at his throbbing cock, his pressure growing with each pump of his clenching hand. He licked his dry lips and moaned loudly, tossing his head back, his eyes closed. He could feel the softness of her skin over his one roaming hand. He could taste the sweetness of her juices on his relentless tongue. He could feel the tightness of her core clenching at his probing finger. He could hear her breath panting out heavily as she squirmed, emitting tiny, beautiful, sensual noises.
His breath rushed out as he began to reach his climax, so close. So close and he dug his fingertips into the tiles of the wall, the delicate material cracking under his strength. He felt it coming. The aching, burning pressure of his orgasm climbing towards the edge of oblivion. He slowly slid to his knees in the tub, his awareness of his surroundings dissipating quickly. His breath quickened, his chest heaving with the aching to keep himself in some form of control. He growled, the sound echoing as he reached the edge, he was about to fall over. He was about to plunge into the soothing warmness of the abyss of pleasure when the knock came. The knock on the door shattered his images and his concentration and he gasped loudly, falling back to his butt on the wet tub floor, gasping for breath, fury sliding into the onyx orbs of his eyes.