Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Passion Kind of Thing ❯ A Passion Kind of Thing ( One-Shot )

A Passion Kind Of Thing
AUTHOR: Angelhart
GENRE: romance (B/V)
RATING: R/NC-17
DISCLAIMER: DBZ is owned by Toei, Viz, Akira Toriyama, and FUNimation

A strange noise awoke Bulma in the middle of then night. A noise that could only be from…

"Burglars!"

Bulma sat up straight, her heart pounding in her throat. There was definitely someone downstairs. Her father was probably still working in his lab - or sleeping in his lab - and her mother was sleeping with prince valium tonight and Vegeta well… Vegeta was obviously training in the Gravity room. Bulma was alone…

"Great, just great," she mumbled as she got out of bed, kicking the sheets away from her in the process. She searched her cupboard for something she could use as a weapon in case the situation called for it. What she found was Yamcha's old baseball bat.

"Perfect." Slowly she opened the door of her room; her head turning from side to side.

Nobody. The coast was clear.

Carefully she made her way across the hall holding the bat so tightly it became almost a part of her skin. She was afraid her heart would betray her presence for it was beating so loud she could hardly hear what was going on downstairs.

She stopped and listened, ignoring the sound of her heartbeat that drummed in her ear. For a burglar, the person sure was noisy. As she descended the stairs she could hear it clearly now. The noise came from the kitchen. The person was probably looking for silverware.

She thought a surprise attack was best, however, when she entered the kitchen she lowered the bat. There were only two persons on the planet with that kind of hair. Goku and…

"O, its you," Bulma sighed as she turned on the light.

Vegeta looked up and turned his face towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"I woke up and heard a noise. Kami, Vegeta why don't you turn on the light!?"

"Why? I can see perfectly in the dark." And with that he turned his head to the refrigerator again.

"Well, you could at least try to be quiet. There are persons who acquire sleep, you know," Bulma said as she placed the bat against the wall. She walked up to him, but as she came in a meter range she immediately took her distance again.

"Kami you smell terrible." Bulma pinched her nose and pushed him away from the refrigerator. "Say why don't you take a shower an I will prepare something for you, ok?"

His eyes narrowed as not so pleasant memories of Bulma's food surfaced in his mind. Whenever she cooked his meal - which was rare fortunately - most of the times it was barely eatable. But she was right about his scent though. He was drenched in sweat and it made his suit stick to his skin. An unpleasant feeling. The thought of warm water running over his sore muscles was very appealing.

Vegeta turned away from the refrigerator. "Make it tasty this time," was all he said as he left the kitchen.

"Thanks, Bulma," she called sarcastically after him. She crossed her arms. "Arrogant prick," she mumbled. "He is staying here for almost two years now. He could at least thank me for the hospitality." She shook her head and grabbed a plate from the cupboard next to her.

The shower was indeed relaxing him at first but slowly his mind drifted off. His body reacted immediately to the image that had suddenly appeared in his mind. The female bathing him. Her soft hands on his skin. She had attended his wounds many times. Her touch somehow lingered on his body still. And slowly other thoughts, besides the pleasing thought of him becoming a Super Saiyan were entering his mind. No, they were haunting him. Haunting him for months now. Her hands on his skin: stroking, caressing… Her body under his…

"I have been on this place too long," he snarled inwardly. He turned around and turned the warm water off, leaving only the cold water to rinse. He was breathing heavily as he placed one hand against the wall. Thinking of the human woman like that he thought of himself as an insane man. "She is not a Saiyan," he told himself.

"But it worked for Kakarot, didn't it…?" A voice crept in his mind. "You are a compatible race."

He looked up. "I am not staying here." Why was he telling himself that?

"So…? It doesn't have to mean anything, now does it? You could use the distraction."

Distraction… She was a distraction. Him being here had evoked some uncontrollable changes in his body. The human female who had invited him to stay had been close by ever since. Causing major chain reactions inside of him.

Never had he lusted for a woman before.

"But that was because they weren't there, now were they? You've travelled from world to world, destroying only. You have never stayed in one place for long, now did you?"

"Yes," it was true. There were no women on Frieza's ship. His only thoughts were on fighting and destroying. Becoming stronger, getting revenge. Vegeta pondered, closing his eyes as the cold water rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Perhaps… Perhaps his lust for power had replaced the other lust he didn't know he had. But now he was free from Frieza. Free to explore. No fighting, no destruction. The lust for power had dulled; the other now obviously had surfaced.

Slowly he turned the water off.

But he couldn't use this. He had to become Super Saiyan. He had no time to deal with hormones. Quickly he dried himself off with a towel. He couldn't become Super Saiyan with a body that was craving for other things.

"I have no time for this," he snarled in a futile attempt to calm his hormones and he pulled his black shorts on. He made a decision. He had to find another place to train. There were too many distractions here.

As he walked down the stairs his body suddenly got the better of him. The sight in front of him that caught his eye was more than enough to fulfil his mind with fantasies he didn't even knew he had.

The human woman was searching something in the refrigerator. Her body bent over while she searched. The nightgown she was wearing was not long enough to conceal her behind in this position. The sight of the light blue panties barely covering her was enough to even make a Saiyan heat up.

Vegeta felt this sudden heat rising in his cheeks and heat was not the only thing that was rising…

He had entered the kitchen at first with a hunger in his stomach, but now as he entered it again that hunger was replaced with another.

He approached her slowly and stopped behind her. She didn't even hear him. Vegeta couldn't resist. He had found her appealing ever since he first saw her on namek. She was the closest thing to his species he had ever encountered. And from that moment she had awakened something inside of him that had remained slumbering even through his moment of puberty. And now it was fully awake.

He moved his right hand slowly. First in the air; gliding over her female form. Then it descended slowly onto soft silk that covered even softer skin…

Bulma jumped up as she felt a strong hand gliding intimately over her behind. She turned around, closing the refrigerator door in her movement as she backed away from the person from whom this hand belonged to. "V-Vegeta," she stuttered, placing her right hand on her chest, "y-you shouldn't sneak up on people like that." Bulma's heart was racing and pounding wildly behind her ribcage. Vegeta was looking different in a way Bulma had never seen on him before, although it was a look she knew well from Yamcha. A hunger, different from the one that had led Vegeta to the kitchen in the first place.

She placed her hands against his shoulders as he closed the distance between them even more. A move from her not really to push him away, but not to invite him into further actions either.
She didn't know why she didn't rejected him as his hands moved from her sides towards her hips and than up again, taking the nightgown with them. Not even a 'no' escaped her lips as he suddenly lifted her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. Her hands were around his neck, roaming through his thick black hair as he moved them and placed her on the kitchen sink. The coldness of the tiles awakened her out of her trance and she realized where this was leading to, yet there was no rejection from her side still.

She was a single woman. Bulma and Yamcha didn't have any real relationship for a long time. They didn't really get together after he was revived by the Dragonballs. However, they didn't really split up either. She and Yamcha had grown apart somehow. She had always known Yamcha was not the 'true one' for her. But Vegeta? She didn't know. Yet her body succumbed easily to this Saiyan's will. She had dreamed about him more than once. He had never left her mind when she first saw him on Namek. Even then Bulma had dreamed about him…

She was alone with the Dragonballs when he had found her. Forcing her to surrender the Dragonballs to him. And her deepest and darkest desire, that was hiding closely beneath her fear for him, was hoping he would ask more from her than just the Dragonballs. She couldn't deny she was attracted to him. He was everything her mind and body sought in a man. Dark, powerful, strong, handsome… A prince for a princess… And now, as the strong Saiyan man was closing the distance he had kept between them, while he stayed at Capsule Corp., in a very sudden and intimate way, she felt no regret, nor the need to reject him. It felt right.

Vegeta's hands had never left her hips. They where holding her in a tight grip, his fingers hooking the edge of her panties. Bulma grabbed his face pulling him closer and startled him with her sudden forward move. She placed her lips on his, kissing him softly. He pulled back his fingers slowly letting go of her panties and he was looking at her with a confused expression. For a moment Bulma was the one who suddenly felt rejected. What? Had she ruin the moment? What did he expect from her? That she would just be sitting there and let him have his way with her? Then she realized that although their bodies were compatible, they still were two different races. Actually completely alien to each other. Bulma didn't know much of the Saiyan way of coupling. And Vegeta was probably oblivious to the human way of coupling. Then the thought hit Bulma that perhaps Saiyans never kissed.

Slowly she shoved a bit towards him, still holding his face. Pulling him closer again she closed her eyes and brushed his lips softly with hers. This time, although a bit hesitatingly she felt his hands roaming her thighs again and her kiss was softly answered. When she opened her mouth and brushed her tongue against his lips Vegeta was startled again. He didn't pull back this time, however. He seemed to catch on her intentions and opened his mouth mimicking her movements. It didn't take long for the French kissing to get more intense. Bulma guessed the Saiyan way of lovemaking was probably more rough and she thought she had found the reason why Saiyans did not really French kissed when her tongue caressed his teeth. They where a bit sharper than human teeth. A bit more primal, as was the sudden growl that arose deep from Vegeta's throat when her hand did some exploring of her own and found the hem of his shorts and glided down over the bulge that was forming there. A gasp for air escaped her mouth and the sound of tearing fabric was heard. Bulma opened her eyes and saw what was left of her panties being thrown aside.

His mouth left hers and sought her neck, nipping at the base there, slowly making his way to her shoulder. One of his hands was on her back and pulled her closer to him, the other hand had left her thighs and was now caressing her breasts on the outside of her gown. For a moment Bulma feared he would tear the gown apart, but to her relief - it had cost her a fortune! - the hand glided down over her stomach. Suddenly it disappeared from her body for a short moment then turning back to her thighs again, holding one tightly and spreading it. He sought her mouth and kissed her like humans did, much to Bulma's pleasure; he must have liked it. At that same moment she felt him entering her with one hard thrust. Her body was even pushed closer to him, guided by the hand on her back. Bulma moaned in his mouth, it was a bit to fast for her, but she guessed, knowing Vegeta's way of fighting, that he probably wasn't a man for foreplay. He went straight for the 'kill'.

One hand on his back held him tightly, her other hand moved down on his arm, following it to his hand that still rested on her thigh. She grabbed it and pushed it between her legs. He pulled back from her mouth and looked down to where they were joined. Taking his hand she moved it in a way she had always found pleasurable and would help to gain her satisfaction from the act. A grin was formed on his lips as she moaned in his ear due to the two movements. Him moving inside her and his hand on her core. Her hand pushing hard on his so he would leave it there. And then it moved on its own. He got the point and started to stroke her in time with his movements. Bulma threw her head back and held on to him with both hands now. Holding his shoulders so tightly her nails would probably leave permanent scars on his skin. His movements becoming faster and harder. He held her close to him, grunting against her ear.

Red marks were forming where her nails were digging in his skin. Piercing through it and cutting it like cat's claw as his movements became more erratic. He was close.

Bulma bit her lip. Her nighttime adventures with Yamcha couldn't even be compared to this. She had always known Yamcha to be a strong man, even when he was intimate with her. Bulma knew that Vegeta cared for her in a way, for she could tell he was holding back. He had to, even Yamcha had so he would not hurt her. Yamcha was very strong in her eyes and could easily hurt her if he would release his full strength during their lovemaking. She would survive it though. But Vegeta… If someone like him would really let go… He would tear her apart with his strength. Probably rip her to pieces unintentional. Bulma was even sure that after this she definitely would have trouble walking in the morning. A small price she didn't mind to pay for ecstasy.

Bulma searched Vegeta's mouth, not really kissing, but nibbling and gently biting his lips, moaning against his mouth as he stroked her towards her climax. "Vegeta…" She whispered against his lips as she tumbled over the edge, "Kami…" She pulled him closer breathing heavily in his ear. His stroking had stopped and the hand was on her right thigh again, grabbing it so tightly as his trusting increased power, that Bulma bit his shoulder in pain, knowing for certain that there would be a red mark there on her thigh in the morning.

Vegeta's eyes which had been closed, suddenly shot open and Bulma was startled at the sound of a loud 'thud' close to her face. She turned her face and saw the hand that had been holding her thigh, suddenly pressed against the stone wall. A small dent in the form of his hand would be the only evidence later of what had taken place this particularly night. Bulma would tell her mother, the next day, that Vegeta had tried to kill a musketo that was sitting there on the wall and had been bugging him all evening.

Vegeta was trembling, sweat covering his forehead as he tried so hard fighting the urge to thrust harder and deeper as her inner muscles spasmed. He slowed down his movements in search for control. He closed his eyes and clenches his teeth as he tumbled over the edge as well. The fingers of the hand that was still leaning against the wall, clawed in the stone and his hand slowly bent into a fist.

Both were panting. Bulma was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, enjoying the afterglow, a smile plastered on her lips. Vegeta's eternal scowl slowly returned on his face again and he pulled out of her.

"This…" He rasped, still out of breath. Bulma opened her eyes and looked at him. "You will not speak of this…" He looked at her when she remained silent then Vegeta looked at himself. His face frowned and his scowl deepened.

"Now I need to shower again," he growled frustrated and in disgust. And what was even worse: he was even hungrier than he had been before this.

Bulma laughed softly.

Vegeta picked up his shorts from the floor. As he pulled it on he noticed the food she had prepared for him as she had promised. Grabbing the plate from the table he left the kitchen, stopping only one time to look back. Bulma glided down the sink brushing her nightgown back into place and turned her head as she felt his gaze on her body. He said nothing, but grinned as he noticed she had a bit trouble standing. Then he turned around, proceeding his way, taking a bite from one of the sandwiches that were on the plate.

* * *

The next morning Bulma was told Vegeta had left earth, taking her father's new spaceship.

"What a pity," her mother said as she looked up to the sky from the kitchen window. "He was such a nice man. I wonder if we'll see him again."

Bulma crossed her arms. "Of course," she answered. She knew he would be back. He had to, for his pride wouldn't allow him to do otherwise. He had still to prove himself in front of Goku.

Bulma left the house looking up the deep blue sky her thoughts wondering off, a Vegeta like smirk crossing her lips as memories of the previous night entered her mind.

In her dreamy state she hardly noticed Yamcha who came running towards her.

"Did you hear?" he asked her. "He took off." Yamcha looked up to the sky. "I say good riddens. We don't need him."

Bulma passed him, like he wasn't even there.

"Bulma…?"

But she didn't hear him. Looking up to the sky the smile on her face grew bigger. See you soon…

Puar looked at Yamcha. "What is wrong with her?"

Yamcha didn't answer as he turned his back to the cat. Although he didn't want to admit it, he knew the answer for it had been a fear that had haunted his mind a long time. A fear that had emitted the same moment she had invited Vegeta to stay in Capsule Corp. A fear that, he knew, had now become reality. Somehow he had known he and Bulma would never get back together again. Yet he had hoped. But now as he watched her, her strolling around in the garden, her face turned towards the sky, her mind absent to his words, he knew he had lost her forever.

He had seen it coming. Her admittance that she had dreamed about that man… Her caring for him… The way she looked at him. Now all was lost.

"I hope you made the right decision, Bulma," he softly whispered. "I hope he makes you happy." Then he walked away. "Come on, Puar," he said to the cat. "We have training to do."

The cat followed, flying behind him. "What is wrong with Bulma, Yamcha?" Puar asked again.

Yamcha didn't answer. He didn't hear Puar. The only sound he heard was the sound of his own breaking heart.

FIN

Author's notes:
Another one of those 'three years' stories. My third lemon and the best one I've ever written in my opinion. Too bad FF.net is taking all NC17 stories down. What about our freedom of speech? O well… Nothing else to do, but for us romance author's to move on. I will post my stories on this site from now on and I will post all my other upcoming stories that are not NC17 on FF.net as well.

---Angelhart---