Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dark Heart ❯ A Ghost From The Past ( Chapter 22 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: SarahW 
Bulma and Vegeta get ready to land on a new, mysterious planet, where Vegeta will face an old enemy with unexpected consequences...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction |
Genre(s): Adventure /
Hentai /
Romance |
Type: Divergence |
Uploaded On: 10.10.2017 |
Pages: 37 |
Words: 19.5K |
Visits: 371 |
Status: Work In Progress
Vegeta run his amused eyes across the wide selection of clothing
his mate had placed all over their large bed and he smirked,
shaking his head at the same time, finding the whole situation
completely ridiculous.
Who the Hell would pack such revealing garments when preparing for
a dangerous trip into Space?
Only his shameless, vulgar woman would do such a thing and,
ironically, her collection of sexy dresses and underwear had turned
out to come in handy as they began the process of getting ready for
landing on Planet Virggo.
“This one,” he said, grasping a minuscule dress that
looked more like a black scrap of cloth rather than actual female
clothing. “With this,” he continued, choosing a very
skimpy black silk thong.
“These?” Bulma asked in shock, holding both items shyly
in her hands, dumbfounded and embarrassed at once at the sight of
the extremely raunchy pieces her mate had selected for her.
Vegeta nodded affirmatively.
“Are you sure?” She enquired again, narrowing her eyes
suspiciously.
“Yes, woman,” he replied, a hint of exasperation and
mirth in his voice.
“You can't be serious…”
The Saiyan crossed his arms, finding the whole scenario absolutely
hilarious, and he stood right in front of her.
“What's the matter, Bulma? I thought we agreed that you'd
follow my instructions at all times during our stay in
Virggo.”
Bulma sighed in defeat, clutching the tiny garments in one hand and
closing the collar of her white bathrobe self-consciously with the
other.
“I know I did, but…”
“But, what?” He asked authoritatively.
“Nevermind…” She said, exhaling through her nose
and turning around towards one of the cabins. “I'll go get
dressed…”
“Don't take too long, woman. We'll be landing in less than
four hours and you must be ready by then.”
“Yeah, yeah…” She mumbled dismissively, entering
one of the small rooms, placing the clothes on a chair and sitting
on the bed dejectedly.
Unbelievable…
She still couldn't believe she was about to do what Vegeta was
asking of her but, after all, she had no right to complain now,
right? Wasn't she the one who'd practically begged him to take her
with him on this trip? She knew, deep down, that Vegeta would never
hurt her or allow anyone else to harm her either, and his little
plan was all for the sake of her safety. Still, she couldn't help
but find these circumstances utterly humiliating and completely
against her nature.
Bulma took a deep breath and stood from the bed, looking at herself
in the mirror placed on one of the doors of the narrow closet. She
was freshly showered, and all that was left now was for her to do
her hair, makeup and get dressed, so she grabbed a hairdryer and
she switched it on, getting to work on getting ready for
Vegeta.
`It's just for a few hours,' she kept reminding herself.
Just a few hours pretending to be something she wasn't while Vegeta
took care of whoever it was he was about to kill, and then he'd
promised her a week, one whole week, just the two of them
alone in some mysterious, isolated location he'd assured her,
repeatedly, she'd really enjoy.
“Alright, Bulma Briefs, let's see what you're made
of…” She whispered as she reluctantly started the
process of doing her hair…
A bit more than an hour later, it had become quite clear that being
Bulma Briefs wasn't so great these days, especially when Vegeta
knocked at the door and, not getting a reply, finally entered the
cabin, finding her sitting nervously on the bed, her hair and
makeup immaculately done but still clad only in her white fluffy
robe.
“Woman, what the…?”
He stopped dead in his tracks just as he was about to chastise her,
one look at the woman telling him something was seriously wrong
with her. She raised her eyes, full of fear and something else he
couldn't fully grasp. Her appalling expression made him immediately
soften up his tone of voice.
“Bulma, what's the matter? Why aren't you ready?” He
asked, making the enormous effort to hide his impatience and
apprehension so as to not make her feel even more stressed out.
“I… I can't do this, Vegeta…” She replied
in a trembling whisper, almost sobbing pitifully. “I
can't… I just can't…”
Vegeta felt his chest constrict at the poignant sound of her voice,
and he took a few steps forward, standing right in front of her and
kindly offering her his hand.
“Come here, woman,” he commanded softly, holding her
hand and making her stand up, pressing her body against his. His
large hands carefully cupped her face, his thumbs lightly grazing
the delicate skin of her cheeks. “Let me take a look at
you…” He whispered, his warm breath caressing her lips
as he inspected her work.
Bulma looked absolutely breathtaking.
Her usually straight hair had been subtly curled into soft,
lustrous waves, and her skin was radiant. Her makeup was light, as
always, designed to enhance her perfect features instead of hiding
them behind a heavy mask. Her longer eyelashes framed those
expressive blue eyes and her glowing skin was perfectly
complemented by succulent, glossy nude lips.
She looked flawless.
“Not bad…” Vegeta mumbled, immediately feeling
his body respond to the dangerous combination of her proximity and
her beauty. He kept caressing her skin, his eyes hypnotized by her
immaculate visage. “What's the matter, Bulma?” He
gently asked again.
“Vegeta…” Bulma whispered. “I just… I
don't know if I can do this…”
“Are you afraid, woman?” He said in a voice so low she
would have had trouble hearing it if she hadn't been so close to
him.
Bulma remained immobile, her mind was such a mess of nervousness,
confusion and unanswered questions that she needed a minute to
collect her thoughts, and the unresolved tension hanging heavily
between them wasn't helping her clear her mind either.
It'd been three days ever since he'd apologized and kissed her
after their last argument, and things had only been getting better
from that moment on. The instant he'd finally locked his lips with
hers, giving in to their desire, had felt like a real breakthrough,
and during the next few days they'd spent most of the time
together, sharing small, intimate moments inside their cold space
ship.
Vegeta still refused to have sexual relations with her, but he was
gradually opening up, lying behind her as they watched movies on
the television, gently caressing her hair and kissing her tenderly.
At times, when she fell asleep on the couch, she'd wake up between
his arms, either on the sofa or in bed, and he'd hold her firmly,
almost possessively against his strong body. He barely talked, but
the way he looked at her made her feel loved and desired in ways
she'd never experienced before. It was almost as if his barriers
were falling down, and the side of him that had always stubbornly
and desperately attempted to keep her at a safe distance was slowly
giving way to a new, more honest, almost vulnerable part of him. A
side of Vegeta she'd barely had access to in the past, and she
didn't quite know what to do about it, afraid of being too bold or
aggressive and scare him away. And yet, despite the deep gratitude
she felt about these new developments in their relationship, she
had to confess, she wanted more. She'd finally admitted to herself
that she loved this man, and she knew that, if Vegeta didn't
eventually love her back just as much as she did him, her heart
would be shattered, broken into a million pieces.
“I'm not… I'm not afraid, Vegeta. It's just that
I…”
“You, what?” He prodded gently, his hands never ceasing
his excruciatingly loving ministrations.
“That planet… I have… I have never been to a
place like that, I guess I… I'm just a bit nervous, that's
all…”
The Prince frowned, deep down unsurprised by the woman's reaction.
There was a good reason why he'd waited until the last minute to
tell Bulma the planet they were about to visit was, in fact, a
pleasure planet. A kind of planet male warriors often visited in
search of some erotic performances, mostly in the form of harmless
exotic dancing, but he knew some of the planet's females would also
perform other types of `services' for the right amount of
money.
Vegeta had visited Planet Virggo a handful of times in his youth,
always encouraged by Nappa and Raditz, and while both warriors
indulged in their depraved tastes, he'd just disappear, flying away
from the large cities and spending long periods of time by himself
in the wilderness. On two occasions, he lied to them, telling them
he'd bedded a female here and there, but it was only so the bigger
Saiyans would cease their teasing and leave him alone. Of course,
he'd never slept with the type of women that inhabited the planet,
much preferring to take care of his sexual needs with regular women
he met on some of the worlds he'd visited through the years.
“I see…” He muttered, wrapping his arms around
her and pressing her soft form against his robust one, inwardly
cursing himself for his weakness when it came to his mate. A
gentle, pure woman like Bulma didn't belong in the place he was
about to take her to. He kept telling himself she'd been the one
asking, virtually imploring for it, and he knew leaving her on
Planet Z365 wouldn't have been an option either, and yet, he felt
conflicted, almost tempted to just change the course of their ship
and take her somewhere else. But he couldn't do that, not
now, not when he was so close to killing one of the few ghosts
from the past that still haunted him.
One of his arms remained immovable on her waist, keeping her
beautiful body close to him while he languidly run his other hand,
up and down across her back in a slow motion, in an effort to relax
her, to soothe her agitated nerves before they reached their
destination. And the little trick must have worked, since he
gradually felt her breathing slow down as she responded to his
touch, also encircling his strong waist with her frail arms and
pressing her cheek against his chest. For a moment, he wished he
hadn't been already wearing his armor, the new armor his woman had
made for him, so he could better feel her embrace, but he figured
it was for the best. He was a warrior, after all: a warrior that
was about to face an old enemy just mere hours from now. It
wouldn't do for him to deal with one of his childhood demons with
an unclear mind.
“Don't be afraid, woman,” he murmured, subtly kissing
the top of her head as he buried his nose in her shiny, feathery,
turquoise locks.
His words made Bulma raise her head slowly, finally looking him in
the eye once again.
“I'm not afraid, Vegeta,” she honestly responded.
“You are one of the strongest men alive, aren't you?”
He immediately replied, in the most confident tone he could summon.
She kept looking at him with those large, supplicant blue eyes,
begging him to bring her a confidence she was clearly lacking in
that moment.
“That, I am, Bulma. Is that what you fear, woman?” He
enquired again, secretly offended by the implication of Bulma not
trusting his strength or his ability to keep her safe at all times.
“I promise you have nothing to fear. Not by my side,”
he vowed, the arm encircling her tiny waist pressing her
protectively against him. He'd never allow anyone to hurt this
woman, even if he had to give his life to ensure her protection.
He'd truly experienced the loss of a loved one, something he hadn't
really gone through since his childhood, when he saw his son from
the future die by the hand of Cell, and the thought of ever seeing
Bulma suffer under similar circumstances drove him absolutely mad
with fury.
The small woman nodded in agreement, never letting go of her man
either.
“I know, Vegeta. I know… I just…”
“Then, what is it, woman?”
Bulma took a deep breath, deeply ashamed of what she was about to
discuss with her Prince; a woman as cocky and self-assured as she
normally was, had a hard time dealing with her relatively new
insecurities.
“Do I really have to wear that dress?” She whispered
shakily, like a little girl reticently refusing to follow the
rules.
“What's wrong with it?”
“Gods, Vegeta… Seriously? It's so damn small! I just, I
don't feel comfortable wearing it, that's all…”
“And yet you brought it with you. Why?”
Bulma shrugged, timidly avoiding his penetrating gaze.
“I don't know… I just grabbed a bunch of clothes from
my closet while I was packing. I guess I didn't even check out
everything I encapsulated.”
She was lying, of course. She knew damn well why she'd brought a
wide selection of raunchy clothes and underwear. It'd been in case
she found herself exactly in the position she was in right now,
alone inside an enclosed space with her Prince. After all, a woman
never knew when she might need a little help to seduce a man, who
had technically abandoned her, all over again. Still, those sexy
items were meant just for him and him alone to enjoy, and certainly
not to be worn out and about in public, especially on some foreign
planet full of horny warriors and beautiful, exotic females that
sold their bodies to the highest bidder.
“Still,” Vegeta retorted. “It is your dress,
woman. Is it not?”
“Yeah…”
“So, why own a dress you do not want to wear anyway?”
He asked with honest curiosity.
Women were still such an enigma to him…
Bulma felt her discomfiture and frustration grow by the second. Was
it really that hard for him to comprehend why she'd feel
uncomfortable wearing such a thing in public? Did she have to spell
out everything for him?
“It's an old dress, Vegeta. I haven't worn it since I was a
teenager, when I used to go out clubbing…”
The Prince shook his head, still not understanding where she was
going with this.
“So?”
“What do you mean, `so'? So, I hadn't just had a baby
back then! And I didn't have to wear it on a planet full of women
that are… You know…”
“Women that are what, Bulma?” He prodded once more,
finally guessing where his mate's fears were originating from.
“Well… Those women… If, if those guys pay to see
them dance and… You know… All that other stuff…
They must be really pretty, right? I just…” She
shrugged shyly again, not even recognizing herself.
`Had she really changed that much?'
Motherhood and all the madness she'd been going through ever since
Vegeta had left her had really made a number on her confidence,
hadn't they? The woman she was today was a far cry from the
carefree, cock-sure teenage girl that used to take the world by
storm with Yamcha and his baseball buddies back in the day. And it
wasn't that she missed those frivolous times at all but, she'd be
lying if she didn't admit to herself that she wished she'd get some
of that legendary cockiness back once again.
Vegeta tilted his head to the side slightly.
So, that's what it was…
His woman was feeling insecure because she had birthed his heir
just mere months ago.
He knew he'd have to choose his words wisely if he wanted to make
Bulma feel better about herself. He kept clutching her greedily
against him, his hands lazily exploring her body through the fluffy
fabric of her white robe as he felt her soft, curvy form in his
hands.
She felt as perfect as she'd always been.
True, he hadn't made love to her ever since she'd had Trunks, but
he'd seen her in her underwear just a few days earlier and she'd
looked so damn delicious his body had even reacted to her beauty
against his will, much to his shame. His eyes just kept staring at
her, and all he could think of was that she'd never looked
lovelier. When he'd first seen her on Planet Z365, she'd looked a
tad too thin and gaunt, which had certainly concerned him at the
time but, during these past few days, he'd made sure she ate
regularly and she'd put on some much needed weight, filling in her
curvy petite frame perfectly and finally going back to her old
self.
“Bulma, look at me,” Vegeta commanded in a low but firm
voice, letting go of her body but holding her radiant face in his
hands one more time. “I am a Prince,” he simply
declared, as if that explained everything.
Bulma just held his gaze, confused about his brief statement.
Of course, he was a Prince! He'd reminded her that just
about a million times before, but this time such a declaration
seemed to hold some hidden meaning behind it that she couldn't
grasp. All she knew was that the tenderness he'd been displaying
towards her these past few days and in that very moment, with his
rough fingertips delicately cupping her cheeks, where making her
giddy with excitement, almost making her forget her own uneasiness
about her physique.
“Yes, I know…” She finally replied in a vague
attempt to get him to finally make his point.
Vegeta kept staring at her with solemn eyes, making her quickly
realize he was dead serious about the thoughts he was sharing with
her.
“Then you must already know that a Prince only surrounds
himself with the best of everything.”
Bulma blinked slowly, frowning in confusion as she tried to put two
and two together.
And then it hit her…
`Was he talking about…?'
He placed the lightest kiss on her soft, glossy lips, making her
briefly close her eyes and inhale sharply. When he finally
separated his mouth from hers, she was practically melting by his
touch, looking at him in bewilderment and curiosity as she
struggled to keep her knees from shaking. Only Vegeta's touch had
such a powerful effect on her, and every time they shared a moment
of intimacy, no matter how innocent or insignificant it may seem,
she could only wish it'd last forever.
“Tell me, Bulma… How many women have I chosen to bring
with me on this ship?”
There was brief silence, an intense stillness full of honesty and
unspoken feelings.
“Vegeta…” Bulma whispered, frowning pitifully and
feeling her eyes burning, about to shed tears of love and
relief.
Gods…
`The best…'
He'd just called her the best woman…
“Vegeta, I…” She said again, but the Prince cut
her off, unconsciously running his tongue across his lips and
placing a stubborn finger on hers, shushing her gently. He had to
get out of the room; if the woman started crying or getting too
sentimental he didn't know what he'd do. The more time he spent
with his little mate, the more fond of her he seemed to grow and,
the worst part was that, even though he'd already experienced such
emotions with Bulma in the past, lately he'd found himself
unwilling to leave and push her away as he'd previously done. If
anything, a part of him was beginning to enjoy her unashamed
demonstrations of love and affection towards him.
She made him feel good, as if he were the best man in the
world, and given his history, he knew such a thing was objectively
impossible, but then again, he knew the woman was smart.
What if she was able to see something in him he wasn't able to
see on his own?
“No more tears, woman…” He gently scolded her,
delicately running the back of his hand across her glowing skin on
last time. “Now get dressed and look your best. Have no fear,
Bulma.”
Bulma remained silent for a moment, trying to assimilate his words.
It was unlike Vegeta to flatter or compliment her in excess, except
perhaps, during their lovemaking in the past, when sometimes soft
words of encouragement unwittingly escaped his lips in the middle
of the night.
She smiled lovingly at him, getting her emotions in check but still
refusing to let go of him. He looked so attractive wearing his
brand-new armor and exuding such great confidence that, even though
she was afraid for him, fearing that this mysterious enemy he was
about to face would end up hurting him, deep down she believed
everything would be all right in the end. There was something in
his strong, comforting presence that felt like a warm blanket
enveloping and soothing her, keeping her safe from
harm.
“Okay,” Bulma finally whispered, promptly placing a
quick peck on his cheek before releasing his waist, taking a couple
of steps back. “I'll be ready in a few
minutes…”
Vegeta smirked, pleased to see his words had been enough to instill
his woman some of her confidence back. He was painfully aware of
his poor command of language outside of anything related to
fighting and battle, and even though he was proud of being Saiyan
and of his warrior status, at times he wished he were able to
better express his thoughts and emotions to Bulma, knowing just how
much his silence or poor choice of words had hurt her in the
past.
He nodded in acquiescence and left the room, giving the woman some
privacy while he went to the central console of the ship to check
on the navigation system for final confirmation that everything was
in order. He had to give it to Bulma, the new model she'd designed
by far out bested her last ship, and this one run even more
smoothly than the previous one.
Just as he was going through the details of his target one final
time to make sure he left nothing to chance, he heard the
unmistakable sounds of Bulma's steps entering the room. When he
turned around, he had to make an extraordinary effort not to let
his jaw open wide in shock.
She looked positively incredible, perhaps too
incredible...
Then again, that was the point, wasn't it?
Bulma was standing a few steps away from him, and her face, which
had first had still featured a tinge of insecurity, was now adorned
by a devastating smile, the smile of a woman whose mate's eyes had
just told her she still had `it'.
“How do I look?” Bulma purred in a seductive voice
coated with false naivete.
The Prince clutched the tablet he was holding in his hands a little
tighter and he swallowed heavily. He could feel his entire body
screaming in desire for this woman, wanting nothing more than to
grab her and have his way with her repeatedly on the floor of the
gravity room.
“You look…”
“Yes?”
“You look decent, woman,” he finally declared with
difficulty.
Bulma pouted like a little girl. “That's it? Just
`decent'?”
Her damned adorable expression made his cheeks flush crimson, and
he took his eyes away from her, pretending to be paying attention
to the small device in his hands in a futile attempt to stop
looking at the delightful curves that looked as if they were about
to burst from her little black dress.
She walked towards him, standing by his side and placing her hand
on his shoulder, playfully taking a peek at the small screen Vegeta
wasn't actually looking at.
The blasted woman smelled so good he could barely control himself
by now, so he tried to find a way to distract her and keep a
distance between them. Even though these past few days they'd
finally given in to each other in many ways, there was still that
final, unseen line he didn't know if he should cross. He couldn't
imagine what the consequences would be for their relationship if he
finally took her and made love to her with everything he
had…
“I thought you weren't going to interfere in my
plans…” He implied firmly, still avoiding her gaze,
almost dizzy by her sweet scent as he kept showing feigned interest
on the contents displayed on the small tablet.
“Uh? What do you mean?”
“You're being nosy, woman…”
“Ah! Not really,” she replied, finally understanding
what he was referring to. “I'm not trying to read your
information, Vegeta. I can't even understand that language…
No… I was just wondering…”
Vegeta turned his head to the side, finally daring to set his eyes
on her once again.
“Then what is it?”
“I was just wondering if you'd let me take a look at your
tablet sometime. You know, when you're done with your… With
your mission…” She answered timidly, feeling as
affected by Vegeta's near presence as he was in that moment.
He looked so sexy wearing the new armor she'd specifically designed
for him during his absence, and his dark, flaring eyes were
inspecting her closely, making her body warm up as if she was
wearing a dress made out of fire. The chemistry between them was
undeniable, and she desperately wondered what it would take for him
to finally stop being so horribly obstinate and take that final
step before she went absolutely crazy.
“We'll see…” Vegeta awkwardly responded,
unsurprised by the little genius' interest in any kind of foreign
technology. “Are you ready?”
Bulma nodded, her eyes wide open and never leaving his. Even though
she could perceive a change in his attitude towards her, no doubt
the result of him being in the process of mentally preparing
himself to `go into battle', she allowed herself one final
moment of intimacy by slowly, very slowly, stroking his bronzed
cheek affectionately. Her gentle touch made Vegeta's eyelids very
heavy all of a sudden, and he blinked lazily a few times, entranced
by her light touch.
“Vegeta,” Bulma whispered with bated breath. “I
know I promised I wouldn't ask you about this… This man...
But, I just…” She released a trembling sigh. “You
are stronger than him, right?”
“I am,” he replied softly but confidently.
“Are you…? Are you absolutely sure?”
The Saiyan stared at her, deep in thought. For some reason, he
would have found Bulma's doubts almost offensive in the past but,
now, he knew she simply cared about him, and he felt secretly
grateful for her concerns. Thankful that someone, especially this
extraordinary woman, was worried about his safety.
Before he had time to regret his actions, he impulsively held her
fragile body and crushed it tightly against him, forcing a sweet
gasp out of Bulma's lips as she panted nervously against his neck.
Vegeta languidly kissed her temple several times, basking in the
pleasure of his little mate's presence by his side before they
landed on Planet Virggo.
Before he had to shield himself from his own emotions towards
her, for a few hours at least…
He was actually looking forward, not only to finally getting rid of
a very significant ghost from his tumultuous past, but also to the
entire week he'd promised Bulma he'd dedicate entirely to her. The
thought of wholly devoting his time and energy to his woman was
both terrifying and exciting for, if he was brutally honest with
himself, he'd never done such a thing before, always being the kind
of man who'd put his own needs and interests before anyone
else's.
Even Bulma's, much to his shame…
He knew he hadn't treated her the way she deserved, and he'd
already made the decision that he'd give her his all when he
finalized his business and made peace with that part of his past.
Whatever love was left within his heart, he was going to give it to
her, at least for the next few days.
“Bulma,” he mumbled against her skin, nuzzling her
silky, wavy hair; the way his warm breath caressed her made Bulma
shiver in delight and anticipation. “I've been stronger than
that bastard since I was ten years of age.”
Bulma looked at him one final time, her eyes filled with a thousand
questions about how was it possible for Vegeta's old enemy to still
be alive if the Prince had been stronger than him from such a young
age. For an instant, she mediated on whether or not she should ask
him any more questions, but she finally chose to remain silent, not
wanting to intrude on things her mate possibly wouldn't feel
comfortable sharing with her. After all, she'd made him a promise
to respect his choices without any interference from her part. Up
to this point, Vegeta's actions had all made sense, and she had no
reason whatsoever to think otherwise in this occasion.
“Okay,” she finally replied with a comforting, trusting
smile on her lips, trying to show her man her full support and
understanding. “I trust you.”
Vegeta gave her slender body one final affectionate squeeze before
letting go of her.
“Good,” he said with aplomb. “Have no fear,
Bulma. Just follow my instructions and everything will be all
right.” He turned around, taking a seat on the pilot's chair
and inviting her to do the same by his side, on the co-pilot's.
“Fasten your safety belt, woman, we'll be landing in a few
minutes”.
Bulma followed his orders without hesitation, quietly sitting
beside him. The warrior, surprised by her uncommon docility gave
her a side glance, only to find her deep in thought. He could tell
she was anxious, but true to her word, she'd been extremely
respectful towards him at all times, never questioning the mission
or his commands.
On her part, the heiress kept mentally going over and over again
through Vegeta's plan, which was, in truth, fairly simple. She was
about to play the part of his bed slave, which was the reason why
she had to wear such scanty clothing, so it wouldn't look as if she
meant much to her `Master', certainly not enough to want to
cover her up to stop other men from looking at her. She'd been
advised to avoid eye contact at all times, never start a
conversation and only speak when spoken to.
Vegeta's mysterious `target' was, apparently, co-owner of
one of those places which were the equivalent of Earth's
strip-clubs, and he had a contact there he trusted and who'd watch
over her while Vegeta dealt with what Bulma assumed was an old
enemy. She had no idea why her mate would trust someone enough to
leave her alone with them for an indeterminate amount of time, but
as usual, she concluded that he'd had good reasons to do so and
chose not to question his choices.
Bulma propped her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes and
taking deep breaths to calm down, reminding herself to be brave and
focusing on the thought of the week together Vegeta had committed
to. Every now and then, she'd glimpse at her mate, who was now
putting his white gloves on and keeping his eyes on the screen. The
record amount of time in which he'd learnt how to pilot her new
ship reminded her, as always, of how intelligent the Saiyan Prince
really was. Indeed, Vegeta's skills went way beyond his natural
ability for battling in combat.
They finally landed, surprisingly smoothly, on what Bulma quickly
learned, as she peeked through one of the vehicle's windows, was
some kind of harbor where a handful of other space ships were
parked still on a straight line.
Bulma did a double check inside her small silver clutch, making
sure she was carrying her share of capsules with her. They'd both
decided to split them, carrying half of them each, and Vegeta would
also encapsulate and safely keep the ship with him just in case
anything went wrong. The woman had also placed a small button
inside Vegeta's armor, and she had one herself on her flimsy dress,
camouflaged under the appearance of a tiny ornamental brooch, so
she could signal him in case she found herself in danger.
After verifying that everything was in order, Bulma finally stood
from her chair, finding Vegeta standing by the closed door already,
waiting patiently for her. She re-arranged her tiny black dress,
making sure everything was in place and she joined him, sharing a
quick glance with him and holding the arm he was chivalrously
offering.
“Remember, Bulma, never walk in front of me and do not show
defiance of any kind,” he reminded her softly, his gloved
hands caressing the delicate fingers of the hand she was holding
him with one final time.
Bulma squeezed his arm comfortingly, offering him a confident,
optimistic smile.
“Understood,” she simply replied.
Vegeta opened the gate, walking slowly, ever mindful of the woman's
shoes, a pair of sparkly high heels that made her legs look
spectacular, and after they finally reached the ground, he
encapsulated the ship, putting it inside his armor and ignoring the
snooping stares a few of the warriors gave the newly-arrived
couple.
They walked through noisy, crowded streets, packed with fighters of
all races and sizes. The big city was full of strange vehicles and
a wide variety of neon lights, advertising their
`attractions' in the form of large billboards featuring
female-shaped figures and what Bulma assumed were words written in
a foreign language she couldn't understand.
It was quite a surreal scene, and the only thing keeping her
grounded was Vegeta's steady presence by her side who, wearing a
fierce scowl on his face, kept her hand firmly pressed between his
folded arm, silently reassuring her and making her feel free from
harm despite the alien madness surrounding her. The beautiful woman
caught quite a few lecherous glances from a large number of males,
and yet, the moment those males took one look at her terrifying
`Master', they immediately looked away in fear. Whether all
of those people knew who Vegeta actually was, she didn't know, all
she knew was that, by the time they reached their last stop, she'd
never felt safer in her entire life than by her mate's side.
A really short man in a purple suit looked the couple up and down
with palpable disinterest.
“Is she up for sale?” He finally asked Vegeta,
completely ignoring Bulma as if she were a doll with no voice of
her own. Being regarded as an object didn't sit well with Bulma,
who was now inwardly fuming, forcibly biting her tongue in an
effort not to mess up her mate's plans, and the almost
imperceptible growl that made Vegeta's body vibrate at the
implication of selling his woman, told her the Saiyan wasn't very
happy about the green dwarf's attitude towards her either.
“I wish to speak to Teekoh,” Vegeta finally declared,
his whole body already tense and ready to attack the perverted
idiot at any minute if he gave him any trouble.
“Tsk! He's busy right now…”
Vegeta inhaled deeply through his nose, clutching Bulma's hand even
closer, before replying in the most neutral voice he could
produce.
“Call him.”
The short man rolled his eyes at the Saiyan's insistence.
“What do you want, anyway?”
That was it.
He was done with this shit.
He had to get inside and stop all those filthy imbeciles in the
streets from looking at his woman, right fucking now.
Vegeta slowly lifted the index finger of his free hand and
threateningly pointed it right between the eyes of the miniature
idiot.
“Ask me about my business again and see what happens,”
he muttered, a malicious smirk spreading across his lips.
“Wha…?”
A small ki ball sparked out of the Prince's finger, making the
short man's eyes widen in sheer panic.
“Take me to Teekoh. Now.”
“Uh… Uh… Sure! Sure, man! No problem! F-Follow
m-me!” The dwarf stuttered, his skin gradually turning from
his natural green to a sickly yellowish tone.
He turned around, not even looking back to see if the mysterious
couple was following him, walking at the quickest pace his short
legs allowed him to. He stopped at one of the bars, offering them a
sit as he walked into the kitchens, going in search of the man the
visitors were looking for. Vegeta waited with Bulma in one of the
corners, with both their backs facing the wall, and he stood
protectively but casually in front of her.
The green man returned right away. “P-Please follow me…
This way…”
He guided them through the jam-packed club in the direction of a
more secluded space in the V.I.P. area.
“Teekoh will be with you in a m-minute… Would you like
me to prepare you or your lady a drink?”
“No, that will be all. You may leave now,” the warrior
replied authoritatively, pleased by the change of stance in the
little green bastard.
Once the two lovers found themselves alone, and after cautiously
inspecting his surroundings, he finally let go of Bulma's arm.
“Take a sit, Bulma,” he asked kindly.
Bulma followed his instructions, feeling incredibly awkward under
these new circumstances. She sat on one of the plush burgundy
couches, curiously looking around, and rapidly noticing this place
wasn't too different from the strip joints she'd visited back on
Earth. Such places weren't really her sort of thing, but she
recalled a particularly cringeworthy night when Yamcha had
convinced her to go to one of those locals to `spice things up a
little' in their almost-dead relationship. She reluctantly
agreed, thinking that perhaps doing some sexy dancing for her
increasingly soft boyfriend would be a bit of fun…
It turned out to be a big mistake when her ex-boyfriend ended up
spending the entire night drooling over the semi-naked bimbos
pole-dancing with their crotch right on his very eager face while
he ignored her entirely as she entertained herself with a bottle of
Champagne, sitting alone in a corner. When she confronted him about
it a couple of days later, the man simply told her it was all in
her head and even blamed her, accusing her of getting too drunk to
enjoy her time with him.
Her ex-lover was a far cry from her current mate, who was stoically
standing by her side, arms crossed, completely unconcerned by the
almost nude females that could still be seen through a large glass
window placed behind the dark red sofa.
A welcoming, almost cheerful voice interrupted her shameful
memories.
“My Prince…” A man said, entering the room and
locking the door behind him with a large, golden key.
He was tall and thin, and even though Bulma had never met anyone
from his particular race before, she guessed he was older than
Vegeta, who'd uncrossed his arms by now, placing one of his strong
hands firmly on the man's shoulders, almost in a friendly
manner.
The Saiyan greeted him with ease. “Teekoh.”
“It's good to see you doing so well, My Prince…”
The man continued.
Bulma felt silently amazed by the joy the enigmatic male seemed to
genuinely profess. And, judging by Vegeta's body language, the
Saiyan appeared to be happy to see him too. Despite the very
obvious, reverent respect the thin man showed Vegeta, they both
looked almost like a couple old friends that hadn't seen each other
in a long time.
“Is everything ready?” Vegeta asked.
“Yes, My Prince. The cameras in this room have been
disconnected, and I've already reported to my superior that it has
been a malfunction.”
“How long before they send someone to do some
repairs?”
“At this hour of the night, at least three hours, possibly
even more.”
“What about that window?” Vegeta inquired again,
pointing at the large glass window behind Bulma's back from where
the entire night club could be seen.
“Don't worry, My Prince. It's tinted glass, the exterior can
be seen from here but you and your, um, your lady friend cannot be
seen from the outside,” the taller man replied
confidently.
“Is he upstairs?”
“Y-yes, My Prince…”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Very well…” Vegeta adjusted his white gloves,
and Bulma could immediately perceive that unmistakable look of
excitement and anticipation written all over his masculine
face.
He looked so devastatingly handsome it hurt…
“This is one of my concubines,” he said, nodding in
Bulma's direction. “She is not one of my favorites, but she's
still a decent bed warmer… And most of all, she is
mine.” He possessively emphasized his last word,
looking the man fiercely in the eye and, all of a sudden, any trace
of friendly camaraderie evaporated. “You do remember what
happens to people that try to touch what's mine, do you not?”
He warned threateningly.
Oddly enough, the man didn't seem too fazed by Vegeta's suddenly
aggressive speech, but he bowed respectfully, tranquilizing the
warrior nonetheless.
“I do, My Prince. Rest assured, I will watch over her during
your absence.”
“She does not have the right to speak nor to be spoken to,
and if anyone tries to get anywhere near her, I am to be contacted
at once. Understood?”
“Yes, My Prince.”
Vegeta took one final look at his mate and turned around
self-assuredly, abandoning the room and leaving Bulma alone with
Teekoh. The tall man smiled kindly at her, and something told Bulma
this man had already guessed by now that she wasn't really one of
Vegeta's concubines. It made sense, she thought, after all, if he
was someone that truly knew anything about her mate, he probably
knew the Saiyan's moral code went against anything having to do
with forcing a woman against her will or using or abusing her in
any way.
Teekoh walked to the door, blocking it by placing a large, heavy
chair behind it and sitting patiently on it. Bulma analyzed him
silently, getting the impression that this was a man who'd spent
most of his life beneath other people. There was a sense of calm
acceptance in his submissive behavior, and yet, he looked at peace,
sitting on his chair as he waited meekly for Vegeta to get rid of
his boss. Why Vegeta trusted this man and why was this man helping
him, she had no idea, but she finally decided that, if her mate
trusted him, so would she. So, Bulma lifted her legs, resting her
tired feet on a small coffee table in front of the couch, and
propped her head back, trying to relax as she waited for Vegeta to
do what he'd come here to do.
In that very moment, Vegeta was soundlessly walking through a long,
dark corridor, getting closer and closer to his destination: the
office that awaited him in the end of it. The place smelled of hard
liquor and humidity, and it pleased him to discover his old enemy
had ended up working in such a filthy, repugnant place.
It certainly suited the bastard…
Once he finally reached the door of his office, he knocked softly
on it, wanting to prolong his revenge as much as he could.
A cold, raspy voice quickly replied. “Yeah?”
Silence.
“Who is it?”
“…”
“Listen, asshole! Whoever the fuck you are, I'm not opening
the fucking door for you! So, get in or get the fuck away
from…!”
Vegeta smirked cruelly, turning the door knob and gradually opening
the door. His entire body was tense, ready to face whatever was
waiting for him behind that old, wooden door, but nothing could
prepare him for the pitiful spectacle he was about to
encounter.
There, lazily sitting behind a timeworn mahogany desk, inside a
room filled with cigarette smoke and lightened by a sad, dusty
lightbulb, an old demon from the past sat miserably, staring open
mouthed at him.
“Well, I'll be damned…” The green lizard finally
muttered.
This?
This was what he'd been waiting for throughout most of his
entire adulthood?
The man in front of him was very different from the monster he
still recalled from his nightmares. True, he'd never been the great
warrior his brother had been, but this… This
thing… This couldn't be the one he was seeking revenge
from…
He was grossly overweight, his large belly protruding over the
tight waist of his brown, worn down pants. His green hair, which in
the old times had been just as long and abundant as his sibling's,
was now much shorter, tied back in an oily, stringy ponytail in a
pathetic attempt to conceal the fact that the old man was very
obviously going bald.
“I'd heard some rumors about you, but… Damn! I couldn't
believe they were true…” The lizard said, bringing his
cigarette to his mouth and inhaling the poisonous smoke with
trembling fingers, which Vegeta wasn't sure were the result of fear
or just his overall poor health. The monster coughed loudly, his
lungs filled with phlegm, making such revolting noises, the Saiyan
couldn't help but snarl in pure disgust.
The man smirked with a mixture of evilness and amusement.
“What's the matter, Lord Vegeta?” He asked
mockingly. “Am I not what you were expecting to see?”
He inhaled again, followed by another incontrollable coughing fit.
“I guess time hasn't been kind to me, uh?”
“That must be the only truth I've ever heard coming from your
lips,” Vegeta finally answered. “Time has repeatedly
kicked you in the ass… I suppose I shouldn't be
surprised…”
“Well… Not all of us are lucky enough to possess Saiyan
genes, uh? Little Monkey?”
The oh, too familiar insult made Vegeta groan in rage, but he
decided not to take the bait. At least, not yet. If he was totally
honest with himself, he didn't quite know how to act anymore. Out
of all the possible scenarios he'd projected in his mind, he'd
never pictured finding Zonzon in such a deplorable state.
“Man… I told Frieza so many fucking times to stop
toying with you and just fucking kill you already…” He
chuckled breathlessly. “But the bastard wouldn't listen to
me. He said you were such a useful Little Monkey, doing all
his dirty work for him…”
“Well, we all know how things worked out for him in the
end...” Vegeta stated arrogantly.
“Oh, yeah… A Saiyan ended up killing him. What a shame
it wasn't you, uh?”
The Prince raised his head proudly, still unwilling to play the old
bastard's game. “It was still a Saiyan, after all, the
one who ended his life.”
Zonzon shrugged.
“Anyway… Who gives a shit? He's dead, and we're here.
That's all that matters in the end.”
“Mmm… You are here, indeed…” Vegeta said in
agreement, running his eyes once more across the tiny grimy room.
“I guess it's fitting that you ended up in this place. You
were always Frieza's bitch, and now you're just a fucking
pimp…”
“Meh… A man has to make a living one way or another, am
I right?”
The Prince remained silent, waiting to see where the lizard was
going with this. The more he looked at him, the more the feeling of
revulsion grew and grew. His skin looked like yellowish wrinkled
paper, certainly not the result of natural ageing, but that of a
life purely devoted to living in vice.
“So… My Lord…” Zonzon said, putting
out his cigarette in a half-full ashtray with his thick, dirty,
stained fingers. “Are you here to kill me or to get Frieza's
share?”
Vegeta tilted his head to the side, not quite understanding what
the monster was referring to. “Frieza's share?”
The lizard laughed loudly, seemingly finding the whole situation
entertaining.
Far too much, in Vegeta's opinion…
“What? You didn't know Frieza got a share of every single
business on the planet?”
“Is that so?” Vegeta asked malevolently.
Why was he even surprised? After all, Frieza had always
tried to get his hands on every single credit he could, even when
he was so damn wealthy that acquiring any more wealth wouldn't have
made any significant difference to him anymore. And, for a man with
an endless and constant supply of concubines, getting money from
exploiting women wasn't too farfetched.
“So, I was right, uh? You're here to kill
me…”
Zonzon smirked almost playfully, still unperturbed by Vegeta's
murderous intentions.
`What the fuck was happening here?'
“Go ahead,” he challenged, leaning back on his tattered
chair, arms lying nonchalantly on its armrests.
There was a moment of silence in the room, and Vegeta's eyes
remained fixated on the bastard's repugnantly confident face as his
mind raced at a million miles per hour trying to understand why the
guy would let him kill him without even putting up a fight. It was
obvious Zonzon would be the one to lose in the end anyway but,
still, where was the honor in sitting on a chair waiting
indifferently, almost invitingly, for someone to kill you?
And then it hit him.
The decrepit lizard wanted to die…
And who wouldn't under his current circumstances?
An ageing man in poor health, probably feeling like shit every
single day of his life after having spent his younger years living
decadently…
“What's the matter, Little Monkey? Wasn't that what
you always wanted?” Zonzon grinned, giving Vegeta a glimpse
of his almost toothless foul mouth. “Oh… I know…
This wasn't what you were expecting, was it?” He put his
hands on his massive belly, rubbing it lazily as he mocked the
Saiyan Prince. “I bet you were expecting to see the man I
was… The one that could get you bleeding and on your knees
with a single finger…”
“If I recall correctly, I gave you the beating of your life
by the time I was ten years old, old man,” Vegeta retorted,
inwardly disgusted by the traumatic memories the lizard evoked.
Zonzon's favorite sport had been to beat him up, almost weekly, for
several years. For a while, the child he was hadn't been strong
enough to defend himself, not that he wouldn't try, unsuccessfully
every single time. But, of course, his Saiyan genes had allowed him
to get stronger and stronger after each beating until, one glorious
day, the tables were turned and he kicked the lizard's ass. The
fucking coward had immediately run to Frieza asking for help and
revenge, and revenge he got, when Frieza beat up the kid so badly
he almost ended his life. It'd been one of the most brutal
thrashings his old Master had punished him with, and the worst part
was, Vegeta never knew exactly why.
Indeed, Zonzon had always been one of the Emperor's favorites,
despite the fact that, even though he was a decent warrior, he
wasn't one of the strongest ones either, and if there was something
Frieza respected above everything else, it was physical
strength.
After Vegeta had finally become stronger than him, Zonzon
apparently requested his Master to transfer him somewhere else, and
Frieza granted him permission to leave the Forces, lending him a
small fortune to run a business somewhere far away from the three
remaining Saiyans alive.
What was the reason behind Frieza's generosity? He never knew. The
only explanation plausible to him was that Zonzon was Zarbon's
older brother, and Zarbon had always been one of his Master's
absolute favorites. There'd even been rumors that such favoritism
went beyond Zarbon's natural fighting ability, and that Frieza was
also enamored of his physical beauty and his rumored fluid
sexuality, taking full advantage of both for years.
After Zonzon left Frieza's Army, Vegeta only heard reports about
the older man here and there: stories of him investing his newfound
wealth on some very successful night-club on a pleasure planet,
somewhere in another galaxy. Followed, years later, by stories of
his decadence, and how his vicious nature had made him lose most of
his wealth, even gambling most of his shares of his own business
away, thus ending up as mere co-owner of the strip joint.
As a young man, Vegeta had wanted nothing more than to find the
bastard, fight him and end his life in battle. But Nappa and Raditz
had always discouraged him from following such plans, begging him
to keep the eye on the big picture by biding his time, training
hard and obeying Frieza's orders for years until he'd be able to
ascend to Super Saiyan status and reclaim his Birth Right, taking
full control and ruling over the Universe.
And now, well…
All of those plans had come true, even if things sometimes hadn't
happened exactly as he would have wished them to in his youth. And
there he was, standing in front of his old torturer, ready to end
his life, but realizing he couldn't go through with it. Not because
Zonzon didn't deserve to die, but because Vegeta was finally
getting the impression that keeping him alive would make a better
punishment.
After all, what could be worse for a man who'd been the old
Emperor's favorite than living a small life? A life of mediocrity
where he was reminded, every single goddamned day, that it was he
and he alone, the one responsible for his countless failures.
A life lived in filth.
It'd be a perfect ending for a less than perfect
life…
“You are right,” Vegeta finally declared, smugly
lifting his chin in arrogant dominance. “You are not a man
worth dying by my hand. In fact, you're barely even a man
anymore… There'd be no honor in killing you.”
“Ah… Honor… You and your stupid honor. You
always had far too many principles for being nothing more than a
dirty Little Monkey…”
The Saiyan smirked, feeling a strange sense of superiority and
relief when he understood the disgusting creature's offensive words
couldn't even touch him anymore.
And he thought of Bulma, his Bulma, waiting patiently for
him downstairs, and he realized he'd much rather go back to her and
devote his time and energies on her than on any other being on that
disturbing planet.
Vegeta turned around, ready to leave the small, nasty office
without even so much as a goodbye.
“Wait, Vegeta! Are you serious?” The lizard asked in
complete disbelief.
“You're not even worth my time anymore,” Vegeta
concluded, already on his way out, giving him his back. “Good
luck, old man…”
The Saiyan opened the door, only to find the green dwarf waiting
uncomplainingly behind it. A look of fear crossed the miniature
man's face, starting to sweat profusely as he attempted to explain
himself.
“Oh! I-I'm s-sorry, Sir… I… I j-just wanted t-to
bring my b-boss this receipt…” He clarified, shakily
waving a now wrinkled piece of paper in front of him.
“He's all yours,” Vegeta replied nonchalantly.
“My business here has concluded.”
Just as he was about to finally exit the room, the small man said
something that changed his plans entirely.
“O-Oh! Well… Um… Thanks for visiting! I-I hope
y-you have a great t-time with your lady d-downstairs!”
`Fuck!'
Did that filthy piece of shit just ruin everything?
“Well! Vegeta! You brought a female with you?” Zonzon's
repugnantly amused voice asked in the background.
`Yes, that green idiot had just destroyed his
plans…'
Vegeta shot daggers at the green dwarf, muttering
threateningly.
“Get the Hell out of here before I change my mind, right
fucking now.”
The short guy didn't need to be told twice, running away as fast as
he could.
“My, my… I'm impressed, Vegeta… Who is she? Your
little whore? A concubine? How many have you got? More than Frieza
did? I thought you weren't even interested in those
things…”
Vegeta stood still in his spot, having the dreaded feeling he knew
how this conversation would end now that the bastard had learned of
Bulma's presence.
“I am not,” he declared hostilely, still avoiding the
ghastly lizard's gaze, who was laughing stridently, his phlegmy
raspy voice bursting into another disgusting coughing fit.
“Mmm… Really? Is she your mate, then? Man! Is she
pretty? I bet she's hot… She must be if you'd rather bring
her here instead of fucking one of my girls…”
The Prince growled menacingly, turning around and facing the old
monster once again.
“If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your fucking
mouth right now…”
He didn't.
“Shit! Was I right? You actually have your own woman? Ha! Is
she in the V.I.P. room where one of my cameras mysteriously
malfunctioned tonight?”
Vegeta's fury kept growing internally, as well as an intense,
fiercely protective emotion at the thought of Zonzon getting
anywhere near his Bulma.
“Watch it, old man!”
The lizard kept running his mouth, apparently undisturbed by the
Saiyan's warnings.
“I guess there's only one way to find out, eh? Let's go check
on that hot piece of ass of yours…”
Zonzon stood from his chair precariously, but before he could get
too far, he found his large, flabby body violently crushed against
the already cracked wall, his big feet no longer touching the
ground as Vegeta's hand grabbed him aggressively by the neck.
“You will never, EVER, get anywhere near my woman!” He
growled ferociously, his entire muscular body trembling in pure
rage. “You're not even worthy of breathing the same air she
breathes!”
“F-Fuck…” Zonzon stuttered, desperately gasping
for air. His eyes told Vegeta he was panicking, and his whole
shtick about wanting to die had been just a bluff after all. Now
that the monster was finally face to face with death, feeling his
life slowly slip through his dirty fingers, he pathetically
attempted to save his ass any way he could.
“C-Come on, Vegeta… I-I was just j-joking… I
b-bet she's a nice girl… How about I offer you two
some…?”
“SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up! Do NOT speak of MY
WOMAN!”
“Ve-Vegeta… P-Please… I…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Vegeta let go of Zonzon,
snatching his heavy head as his body was about to hit the floor and
cracking his neck in one quick motion, dropping the now lifeless
body on the ground.
`That was it…'
Vegeta took one final look at the dead body. The lizard's face now
looked like a horrible, grotesque mask, his glassy eyes wide open
in shock and fear and his purplish tongue ridiculously sticking out
of the toothless mouth.
He left the office, closing the door behind him and resolutely
walking towards the V.I.P. room where Bulma awaited him. The closer
her presence felt, the more his fury seemed to evaporate.
So, he'd killed the bastard.
So, what?
Wasn't that the plan all along?
So, what if it'd been his desire to protect Bulma what had actually
given him the final push to putting an end to the lizard's life and
not his original wish for revenge?
Wasn't the end result the same anyway?
Zonzon was dead.
Good riddance.
It shouldn't make a difference to him, and yet, it made all the
difference in the world.
He'd killed an old ghost from the past for her…
What had this woman done to him?
Relief washed over him when he finally joined his mate, who was now
kneeling on the couch, holding a glass in her hand, her little
elbows leaning on the headrest as she looked at all the semi-nude
females dancing outside, in the night club, with avid eyes.
Teekoh was still sitting by the door, and he got up immediately as
soon as he noticed the warrior's presence.
“My Prince…” He bowed.
“Hey, Vegeta!” Bulma said, offering him a dazzling,
tipsy smile. “You're back!”
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her much too chirpy behavior.
“I'm sorry, My Prince, but… Your concubine insisted
that she wanted a drink and I… I had to…”
“Do not apologize, Teekoh. She really is a stubborn little
wench, isn't she?” The Prince replied with a smirk on his
face, tranquilizing his old friend and secretly amused by Bulma's
antics. The blasted woman couldn't follow the goddamned rules for
even five minutes, and he'd be lying if he said a big part of him
didn't love her for it.
“Y-Yes, My Prince… She's a stubborn girl, indeed. I
prepared her drink myself, from the bottles we keep here in our
private bar, so there's no danger, I assure you…”
Vegeta placed a reassuring hand on the taller man's shoulder, just
as he'd done when he first greeted him earlier. “That is
quite all right, Teekoh, we'll be leaving soon anyway.”
The thin man nodded in relief. “Was…? Was your visit
satisfactory?” He asked prudently.
“It was,” Vegeta simply replied, not wanting to get
into too many details and feeling that words were not even required
at this point. “You may leave now, Teekoh. Your help is no
longer needed.”
“Very well, My Prince.”
Vegeta walked Teekoh to the door, and the man unlocked it, offering
the Saiyan the golden key.
“You may lock it after I'm gone if you wish, nobody will
bother you if you want to spend some alone time with your woman in
here.”
The Prince took the key, and he put his hand inside his armor as if
he were looking for something. When he finally took it out, he was
holding a small, golden card, which he instantly offered to his
friend.
“This is for you, in payment for your help,” he said
solemnly, making the older man's eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh, no! No, I can't! It's not…”
“Take it,” Vegeta insisted, sternly placing it on
Teekoh's hand against the man's will.
“My Prince, it's not necessary… I was happy to help you
tonight. I fully understand your… Your
reasons…”
“This is not just for your services tonight, old man. This is
also for…” Vegeta paused, hesitating, feeling
uncomfortable about recalling certain events from the past.
“For all your services in the past…”
Both men exchanged a knowing glance, and Teekoh finally relented,
taking the card with shaky hands and nodding in thankfulness.
“I only did what was right, My Prince.”
“And that is exactly what I am doing right now,
Teekoh.”
The taller man exited the room, saying his final goodbyes to the
Saiyan and his woman.
“Good luck, Prince Vegeta.”
“Good luck,” the Prince assented, finally closing the
door and locking it behind him.
When he turned his attentions back to Bulma, he discovered the nosy
little woman had been paying close attention to the previous
exchange with his old comrade. He removed his white gloves,
throwing them into a nearby trash can and turning them to ashes
with a tiny ki spark. He didn't want to touch his mate with the
same gloves he'd been wearing when he killed such a filthy
creature.
He approached her, at once taking away the glass she was holding in
her dainty hand. He carefully sniffed the pink liquid it contained,
taking a small sip to taste it. It was sickly sweet, and definitely
stronger than anything he'd drank on Earth, so it was a good thing
the woman had barely had a taste of it, otherwise she'd be blind
drunk by now.
Vegeta sat by Bulma's side, knowing they should abandon the night
club as soon as they could, just in case, but wanting to cool down
for a few minutes before they left.
His woman took advantage of his proximity and shamelessly threw her
arms around him, holding his neck and kneeling on the couch beside
him. She kept smiling at him, one of those pure, honest-to-Gods
smiles of hers, and he could tell that, even though she wasn't
inebriated, the alcohol had loosened her up a bit.
“So… How did it go? Did everything work out?”
The Saiyan grunted affirmatively. He didn't want to talk; all he
wanted to do was to share a moment with his mate. After all the
immorality and decadence he'd just witnessed tonight, she was all
he needed.
Bulma swiftly made her move, boldly straddling him, siting on his
lap and trapping his strong, muscular thighs between her legs.
Vegeta's hands automatically travelled to her hips, holding her
firmly, as if she were the only thing still capable of keeping him
grounded to this world.
“Mmm…” Bulma moaned, playfully nuzzling his nose.
“I guess that means you're all mine from now on…”
She said, teasingly rubbing her core against a very dangerous area
underneath the tight pants of his battle suit.
Vegeta hissed loudly, clutching her hips even tighter, knowing that
if the devilish creature kept moving like that, she'd elicit a very
embarrassing physical reaction from him very, very
soon…
“You're drunk, woman…” He whispered in her ear,
making her giggle in response.
“I'm not!” Bulma pouted childishly. “I'm just a
little tipsy, that's all…”
She kept dangerously rubbing herself against him, and Vegeta felt
more and more powerless by the second. He buried his nose in her
neck, feeling her comforting presence wash all over him. She
smelled of life, honesty and all things bright, and he realized he
needed her now, more than ever, to forget about the humiliating
fiasco this trip had turned out to be.
“Mmm… Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look in
your new armor?” She asked, nibbling on his strong jaw and
making him unconsciously tilt his head back, letting her do as she
pleased with him.
Vegeta groaned, already feeling his body react to his little woman.
“Is that so?” He whispered teasingly in a warm, husky
voice.
Bulma run her tongue across his jaw, almost soothing the places
she'd just sunk her small teeth into. “You do… And you
know what I just realized?”
His rugged hands squeezed her hips once again, silently encouraging
her to keep talking, to say something, anything. All he wanted was
to keep hearing the calming sound of her melodic, coquettish
voice…
“You haven't even looked at any of the other girls in this
club tonight…”
Vegeta looked at her, puzzled as to why it was so surprising to
Bulma that he hadn't paid any attention to all those other wenches.
Didn't she already know she was his woman? Why would he ever feel
the need of looking at someone else?
When he said nothing, Bulma kept talking, taking advantage of the
courage the liquor had given her.
“Mmm… I think that deserves a reward, don't you
think?”
The Saiyan pressed her gorgeous body even closer to him, his hands
never letting go of those luscious hips. He could feel his sanity
slipping away, knowing where this was inevitably going, and for the
first time in months, he truly didn't give a shit anymore.
He got the impression the liquor was finally making his woman lose
control and open up to him, sharing her deepest desires, and Vegeta
was feeling more eager than ever to indulge her, so he willingly
kept provoking her…
“What do you have in mind, little human?”
Bulma smirked seductively, glad to see Vegeta so keen to play her
little game of seduction. She placed a tiny kiss on the tip of his
nose and she proceeded to remove her mate's possessive hands from
her body. He reluctantly agreed, knowing his woman wasn't really
going anywhere and curious as to what her naughty, mischievous mind
had in store for him.
“Perhaps your gorgeous concubine should do a little dance for
you…”
She stood in front of him, all long legs and sparkly high heels
and, for the first time, Vegeta paid attention to the music playing
in the background, which he'd ignored entirely before. It reminded
him of Earth's so-called `Oriental music' and the melody
seemed to have been specifically designed for the breathtaking
woman sensuously dancing just for him.
His mouth went dry at the sight of her voluptuous hips indolently
shaking for his eyes only. The minute black dress, whose neckline
was so low he could almost see her bellybutton, was so short that,
as she moved, it offered him a glimpse of her perfect, rounded ass
cheeks. Her arms kept moving with the rest of her body in perfect
unison as she bent over, languidly running her hands across her
skin, from her knees to her creamy thighs, hips and breasts, which
kept bouncing slightly from side to side as she kept dancing,
swaying to the rhythm of the exotic sounds…
She was hypnotizing.
She was so maddeningly fucking perfect it hurt, and she was all
his…
Vegeta knew all he had to do was say the word and she'd fervently
comply, ardently giving herself to him, letting him do whatever the
Hell he wanted with her body. And when she finally offered him her
hand, he took it; the Gods helped him, he did,
because nothing else mattered anymore. There was no past and no
future. No death or revenge, only desire, a burning desire that
consumed him like an incontrollable flame.
Only his Bulma could do that to him…
He stood by her side, and just as he was about to grab her and
press her tight, petite body against him, she turned around, smooth
and swift like a bewitching little snake.
And then…
Sweet merciful Gods!
Then she pressed her bottom against him, milking his cock, already
hard as a rock, between her pert little ass cheeks. And even though
his instinct of self-preservation begged him to keep her away from
him, the primal, animalistic voices within his soul just ordered
him to take all the enchanting woman had to offer and then
some.
And he would, because he was a bastard from Hell, and that's
what he did…
He was born to take, pillage, kill and conquer, and he'd take this
woman tonight even if giving in to her wishes killed them both.
Because, after all, nothing else really mattered…
They were just a man and a woman whose bodies kept imploring for
release. There was no logical, scientific explanation for the
unshakable attraction they'd both felt for each other since day
one, and Vegeta had finally grown tired of fighting his urges
anymore…
“I want you, Vegeta… Gods! I want you so
much…” Bulma sobbed, laying her head back and rubbing
her cheek against his as she kept pressing herself against his
massive erection. Even though he hadn't fucked her in months she
still remembered oh, too well how good the excited man
behind her could make her feel.
The scent of her arousal invaded Vegeta's senses as he encircled
her body, one arm around her hips and one hand softly caressing her
breasts, feeling her rosy, hardened nipples through the thin fabric
of her dress.
“Bulma…” He muttered, his mind so dazed by desire
by now that he was incapable of putting a coherent sentence
together.
“Am I prettier than those women, Vegeta?” She asked in
a breathless, girlie voice. “Don't you want me
anymore?”
He clutched a fistful of her tousled hair and pressed his lips
against hers, indulging in a messy kiss, tasting the need and
desire pouring from her.
“You're more fucking beautiful than all of them
together,” he honestly replied, his dark eyes penetrating her
soul and his velvety voice feeling like an avid caress…
She turned around, wrapping her thin arms around his neck and
kissing him again, forcing him to swallow her desperate moans,
feeling as if she were finally losing her mind.
“Then, what's stopping you, Vegeta? J-Just… Just do it,
please! I want you…” Her hand boldly run across his
body, stopping when it reached his pants and pressing it against
the large proof of his arousal.
“F-Fuck!” Vegeta roared, feeling his cock twitch and
throb in anticipation.
`That was it…'
He couldn't resist her anymore…
The Prince growled in need, passionately holding her face with one
hand and squeezing it slightly, making her glossy lips pout in
wonder. He run his textured tongue across them once, twice…
His other hand then covered the one that was still daringly wrapped
around his hard cock.
“Do you want this, Bulma? Do you want
me?” He asked hoarsely against her panting mouth,
trembling in sheer agony. She brazenly squeezed his member gently
in response.
“G-Gods! Yes, Vegeta! Yes… I want you! I want all of
you…”
No more words were needed for Vegeta to make his final choice. He
bit her lower lip, making her gasp in shock and pleasurable pain,
and sealed her mouth with another hot, searing kiss before she had
time to chastise him. When he finally unlocked their lips, gasping
for air, he held her flawless, radiant face between his hands,
sealing their fate once and for all.
“Then you will have me, woman.”