Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Falling in Love the First Time ❯ Dream ( Chapter 18 )

Falling In Love The First Time

Chapter 18 - Dream

The room was cold and dark, almost violent in its presence, but the bed she laid upon was of the softest silks. Blackness surrounded her entire body, caressing her bare back, and gliding over her pert nipples. The only sparkle of light in the room was of that which bound her hands. Not rope, not wires, not chains, the force that pacified her wrists to ensure her helplessness was the awesome power of ki.

Who's? She wasn't certain. Why? She couldn't decipher. But she would soon learn her fate as the large doors to the hostile room flew open.

Two men entered.

"She has been properly prepared for you, highness." A large bulky warrior looking being with a tail bowed to the smaller man he had entered with. "I shall leave you if you request nothing further, sire."

"That is all," the shorter one said gruffly as he nodded for the taller man to leave. The doors to the large room closed, leaving the shorter man to that which was 'prepared' for him. "Perfect," he breathed huskily as he removed the cape that was draped across his shoulder. He then proceeded to slowly peal off his gloves, armor, boots, and the top half of his combat suit, leaving only his physique flattering combat pants and a white gold medallion that ran loosely up the body of his prey and he crawled atop her. "Does my pet wish to play?" his voice was deep and sexy, his eyes were filled with nothing but lust, the bulge in his pants only further proving that point.

The woman beneath him turned her head away as he lowered his lips in an attempt to capture hers. She was no man's 'toy' to be played with; she would not be taken without a fight.

Her captor released a challenging chuckle as her defiance excited him. "You will submit to me little one," he foreboded as he slowly ran his fingers up her arm and stopped his palm right in front of the ki that encaged her wrists. Forcing her arms from behind her head, he pulled her body to her knees, smirking devilishly as the change in positions allowed the silken sheet that loosely covered her flawless body to fall, leaving her completely exposed flesh to his probing eyes. "Beautiful," he whispered as he dropped her wrists behind his neck so he could use both his hands to explore her womanly curves.

She averted her eyes as his calloused hands dominated her body. She attempted to pull away but his controlling grasp kept her immobile. She was powerless to do anything but be subjected to his gentle tortures.

"You like that?" he asked after hearing her release an involuntary moan as his hands brushed against the soft blue curls that hid his prize. "Want more?" The question was clearly rhetorical, as he had no interest in her answer. She was going to have her fill of him before the night was over, whether she liked it or not.

Running a hand down her thighs he smoothly parted her legs, allowing him access to his goal. Against her whimper of protest, he slid one digit inside of her only moderately moistened entrance. "We shall have to do something about this," he whispered as he began exploring her opening more carefully, memorizing every spot that elicited a whimper, or moan of gratification. He was pleased to find many, as her soft folds quickly became covered with her thick flowing arousal. "Much better," he purred, finally pulling his fingers away from her entrance, enjoying the deep-throated groan of displeasure she released.

He grasped her chin with his free hand as he forced her to watch as he licked all of her nectar off of his fingers. "Want a taste?" he asked, watching her lust filled eyes contemplate her answer. He did not wait for her response before his slid his hand around the back of her neck and forced his lips upon hers in a bruising kiss, ravaging her mouth with his tongue, allowing her to taste herself fully.

He felt her hands slide off on his shoulders as they locked around his lower back to help pull herself closer to him, drowning in his impassioned kiss. He smirked against her lips before pulling away. "I told you, you would submit." He realized his mistake almost immediately after he finished his statement. Her lusty haze seemed to drift away as she began struggling against him once more.

Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist he pushed her onto her back onto the bed again, covering her body with his own to hold her into place. "So much passion," he purred as he ran a finger across her jaw line. The thrashing his back received from her merciless attempt to break free of his hold served only to fuel his burning fire for her.

He allowed her struggles for several minutes before her breathing became rampant, having effectively worn herself out. "You should have saved your energy," he shook his head in disappointment, "now I am free to do as I please with you."

"No," a soft whisper came from the exhausted woman.

"Ah, so the deity does speak," he smirked at her desperation. "Do you wish to ask something of me?" he questioned coyly, he wanted to hear the voice of the woman he was about to teach the true meaning of pleasure to.

"If you are determined to take me against my will," she breathed heavily, still very much weakened by his ministrations and her failed attack, "I want to know who you are… I want to match a name with the beast I shall curse until the end of my existence."

He felt his heart stop as his purpose suddenly became clouded. 'This isn't right,' his decided assuredly. He had never kept a woman in his bed that did not want him in the end; played hard to get, yes, but against her will. What was he missing? "You do not want me, woman?" he asked, the shock evident in his tone. "But, I am the great Saiya-jin no ouji! You should beg for my touch!" he exclaimed, it never happened like this before, his 'pleasure slave' always submitted to his raw sex appeal.

"Vegeta?" The soft, confused whisper of his name tickled his ears. "This is all you see me as?" The hurt in her voice was evident. What was happening?

"Enough wench!" He screamed his temper getting the better of him. "You are here to pleasure me! That is what you will do!"

"I am not your private whore!" The voice became more furious as her struggles to get away from him gained momentum, "How can you do this to me, Vegeta?! I am the mother of your child!"

Mother of your child… The words echoed in his mind, utterly perplexed by the revelation. "Bulma?" he questioned in sheer astonishment as the mist that had hidden his senses from the knowledge of whom he had been trying to dominate cleared. "No," he whispered as he quickly released the ki binding her wrists and removed himself from atop of her so he could cover her unveiled body with the discarded silken sheets. "Bulma, I-"

"This is how you see me?" she moaned between sobs, tightly encasing herself underneath the silken sheets, "Some meaningless body that needs to be conquered?"

"No!" he objected furiously, capturing her cheeks with his sweltering palms to force her to listen to his case. "I-I had not known it was you… I would never…"

"I hate you," she tried to push his hands away. "You led me to believe you were learning to care for me… I thought… Dende, I am such a fool! I will never be what you want! I am not strong like you, powerful like you. I have barely set foot off Earth, I have not experienced space as you have, I… I am not of your race, I am not Saiya-jin, just a pathetic human. I could have never been what you wanted… I could never have been anything more than a body to you, a slave for you to do with as you wish."

"Woman, stop this!" he insisted while giving her a light shake to help invoke her drifting sense of rational. "That is not true! I do not care what race you are. I want only you. I want all of you," he forced his lips upon hers to prove his point. After a few brief moments of resistance, she finally succumbed to what he knew she had wanted. Wrapping her arms around his chest, he felt her pull her body flush against his. "Yes, Bulma," he panted her name as he moved his lips from hers to begin reacquainting himself with her body. "Tell me you want the same."

Taking several deep breaths to calm her heated gasps, Bulma closed her eyes as she contemplated his demand. Knowing her answer she responded with a resounding, "No," that stopped her love's caresses instantly. Once his eyes lifted to plead with hers for some sane explanation as to how she could not desire him as he desired her, she explained, "Nothing has changed for me, I still want love."

With an exasperated sigh, Vegeta laid his head against her hefty bosom, taking a few moments to consider her words. "The boy thinks I love you," he whispered to his mate's blatant surprise.

"I know, he told me he thought so," she responded with all that she could, uncertain where his train of thought was leading.

"Maybe," he began with some hesitation, "maybe the boy's deduction holds some truth to it."

Startled by his assessment, Bulma could barely manage to ask for his further explanation. "Vegeta, what are you saying?"

Lifting his head to lock his eyes with hers, he simply stared at her for several minutes, as if searching her eyes for some sort of sign. Once he appeared to conclude that which he was pondering, he finally admitted. "If love means bringing you flowers, and writing you poetry, and taking you out to dinner, and buying you gifts," he cringed mentioning each element, "then I do not love you, because I have no desire to do any of those things for you. But, if 'loving' you means that I must protect you from all harms, and that I get to keep you all to myself, in my home, my bed, then I may not be as averse to the concept as I originally was inclined to be."

Bulma forced an emotionless laugh as she leaned her head back against the pillow, "you make it sound like a business arrangement."

"I do not know what more you expect from me," he suppressed a growl. He was trying to be honest with her; she was the one being unreasonable.

With a long sigh, Bulma encircled her mate's face within her palms and slowly asked the question that would decide where they would go from now on. "What do you feel for me, Vegeta?"

"I thought I just told you-" he snapped, irritated he was having to repeat himself.

"I know you do not like the word love, that is fine, but what I need to hear from you is not just a word, I need your complete honesty." Bulma tried to explain her exact instructions. "Just tell me how you feel about me. You say you want to protect me, and obviously you still want a physical relationship, but is that it? Is that all you see me as use to you for?"

Narrowing his eyes, Vegeta scoffed at her insulting suggestion. Sitting up in the bed he glared at her. "If I just wanted sex I could easily find hundreds of woman who would be much less hassle than you, Bulma. And being the mother of my child I have a responsibility to protect you from any and all dangers regardless of our relationship. As far as my 'use' of you, as you have so clearly pointed out to me numerous times, everything I have is supplied by your family, regardless of how much I seem to piss you off. Which should entice any sane man to count his blessings for having the privilege of living in the lap of luxury without having to deal with the neurosis of a silly little female like yourself, however, I am unfortunately not a sane man, and also apparently a glutton for punishment because I do not want to remain indifferent housemates. I do not want you with another man! I do not want my son to have another father! And I do not want to live the rest of my days alone and miserable, I want to spend them together, in misery, with you!"

Staggered by his disjointed thoughts, only one expression could explain what his comments had done to the sanity of her psyche. "I am not sure if I should kiss you or punch you."

Vegeta smirked as he crossed his arms and scoffed at her, "I vote for both, not that the latter would affect me much."

Ensnared by his goading, Bulma leapt forward, pounding her fists against his chest. She only completed a few punches, however, before the Saiya-jin no Ouji halted her attack by trapping her arms behind her back. "Tsk, tsk, such a temper you have, Miss Briefs," he taunted as he moved his lips to begin caressing her neck. "But, I can think of a much better way for you to relieve those frustrations of yours."

Feeling the covers drift away from her body, Bulma closed her eyes as she submitted to his tongue's gentle tortures. "Does this mean we are a… ah… what does this make us?" she was unsure of the correct terminology for her and her prince.

"We are mates," he breathed huskily against her ear, "indefinitely..."

"MOM!!!!!!"

~*~*~

"Ah," Bulma cried as she jolted from her blissful dream to find her son sitting on her bed with a wide grin on his face.

"Morning, Mom," the young boy chided enthusiastically, "I did not mean to wake you up, but it is eleven O'clock and I am really getting hungry."

"Eleven?" Bulma's eyes drifted towards her alarm clock. "I can not believe I slept this late, I am so sorry, Trunks," she turned towards her son. "You have not had anything to eat? Why didn't you ask your father to take you out for breakfast?"

"Well, I would have, but he has been asleep all morning too. I was just going to wait, but I am so hungry," he patted his stomach for affect, "I thought it would be less dangerous to wake you up first."

Taking a few moments to wipe the sleep from her eyes, Bulma allowed herself a short yawn before promising her son to come downstairs and start cooking some breakfast for them. "Just give me a minute to grab my robe and splash some water on my face, all right?"

"Ok," the boy agreed, as he hopped off the bed and watched his mother grab her long robe and wrap it around herself before scampering off into her bathroom. Once she was out of sight, Trunks' eyes landed on the dress his mother had been wearing the night before. He was a little surprised to find it thrown so untidily on the chair next to her bed; his mother was always antsy about keeping her dresses in perfect order. Deciding to surprise his mother by straightening out her gown, he walked over and picked up the light garment. After neatly relaying it atop the chair, the sound of a low thud to the ground distracted the small boy as he realized he had dropped something. Thinking it was his mother's purse, Trunks leaned down to pick up the object, but to his shock, the case he had dropped was much smaller than a purse. Not taking a moment to consider his mother's privacy, the half Saiya-jin opened the black velvet box; before his eyes shined a bright sapphire stone atop of a golden ring. "Mom, what is this?" he unconsciously called into the bathroom that he mother was finally reemerging from.

"What is wha-" before she could finish her question, the answer laid before her. "It's just a gift from Jet, sweetie." Walking over to the small boy, Bulma removed the engagement ring from his hands and placed it atop her dresser, out of his reach. Grabbing her son's hand, Bulma swiftly began guiding him out of her room, and downstairs towards the kitchen, hoping no further mention of the ring would follow.

Her hopes were dashed.

"Why did Jet give you that, Mom?" Trunks questioned as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Since it is eleven, I guess you might as well have lunch since breakfast has pretty much passed. What would you like to have to eat?" She completely ignored his inquiry, hoping the temptation of food would be enough to distract the young boy.

"Why won't you answer me, Mom?" his tone held a note of sadness that forced Bulma to halt her scrabbling in the refrigerator to address her son's concerns. Walking back over to the kitchen table, Bulma lifted the boy into her arms, and then stole his seat, sitting him in her lap so she could begin to explain.

"I have been seeing Jet for a while now, and the two of us have been having a lot of fun together, you know that right?" she paused as Trunks slowly nodded in agreement. "Well, after two people spend a lot of time together, their feelings begin to grow, and as such, they want their relationship to grow into something more serious. And when that happens-"

"Jet asked you to marry him, didn't he?" Trunks interrupted his mother, already knowing what she was going to say next.

"Yes, he did," she could so clearly see the hurt and devastation in her son's eyes as he made the deduction. "After our conversation yesterday, I do not have to ask to know how this must make you feel."

"Does Dad know?" Trunks asked just above a whisper, his head still fallen very low.

"Yes, I told him after I came home last night," she sighed at the memory. Their exchange had been a bizarre fusion of positivism and pessimism.

"And what did he tell you?" the boy's fallen head rose, hoping perhaps his father had taken his advice and told his mother the truth. "Did he convince you to not marry Jet, but marry him instead?"

Kissing her son gently on his forehead, she carefully chose her answer, "Trunks, I did speak with your father, and he did advise me to seriously consider whether or not marrying Jet is a good idea, and I am, I have not said 'yes' to his proposal, but sweetie, you have to understand, even if I do not marry Jet, that does not mean I will marry your father."

Nodding his head, Trunks took what small victories he heard in her explanation. "I understand, you and Dad have problems, you both still love me, bla bla bla…"

With an uncontrolled chuckle, Bulma lowered her son to the ground. "You may want to work on making that sound less forced," she scolded before heading back over to the refrigerator. "Why don't you go wake your Dad and see what he wants to eat, that way I can kill two birds with one stone here, all right, Trunks?" she questioned as she pulled a few supplies from the icebox. When she received no answer she asked again while putting the items down on the counter. "Trun-" Before she could complete his name, a hand snaked over her lips, while an arm encircled her waist, pulling her against a muscular chest. Such a paralyzing embrace would have frightened any normal woman, but once the musky scent of the man who had apprehended her tickled her senses, she knew no danger would come to her; at least not physically.

"You left me before we could finish our fun, woman," Vegeta's scratching voice purred in his mate's ear. "And now I hear you telling the boy you have yet to decide what you are going to do about Jet. Honestly, you act as though nothing I said to you sunk into your thick scull," he pouted as he nipped at her neck with his teeth, already envisioning the moment he would sink his fangs into her flesh.

"I do not know what the hell you are talking about, Vegeta," Bulma hissed as she spun out of his grasp, turning around to face him with an angered glare. "Last night I never said I would not marry Jet-"

"I am not talking about last night," Vegeta cut her off briskly, while placing his hands on either side of the counter, trapping her body against his, "I am talking about this morning, in our dream." Believing that was enough of an explanation, Vegeta returned to his attack on her neck, but only to be pushed away once more.

"What are you talking about!?" she shook her head in bewilderment. "Dreams do not mean anything, Vegeta, and they certainly do not have anything to do with our relationship, or lack thereof."

Narrowing his eyes, Vegeta pushed himself to stand up straight. "Are you saying you did not dream about me this morning?"

It was Bulma's turn to narrow her eyes as she crossed her arms, appearing rather affronted. "You know, your ego never ceases to amaze me. I had one of the most romantic evenings of my life last night, with Jet. If I were going to dream about anyone, it would have been him. So, what in Dende's name would make you think I could instead be dreaming of you?"

"Because I was dreaming about you!" he admitted, slowly raising his voice. "What had started as one of my typical sex dreams ended up as an in-depth dialogue about my feelings for you! And, since under no circumstances would that ever be on the forefront of my mind while my body is desiring a physical release, you clearly invaded my dreams. So do not act as though you have no idea what I am talking about, our conversation, though on a psychosomatic level, was just as genuine as the words we are exchanging right now."

Covering his lips, stunned by the familiar visions he had mentioned, no other response could be formed in the science genius's mind, "But how?"

Mildly relieved that her weak human mind had accepted his admission as truth, he began to explain, "Saiya-jins have telepathic abilities. You have heard of Kakarrot using one element of them when he read the thoughts of his companions after arriving late, as he always does, for battle. Another element is connection in dreams. Though it is uncommon that such can be done with a non Saiya-jin, when a bond is developing it has been known to happen. In our case, I have concluded that ours was started sometime during my tri-rut. I had thought with the more time we spent apart it would simply deteriorate, but it seems all it needed was a minor tug, as you must have given it last night, and it redeveloped, seemingly even stronger."

Shaking her head, Bulma tried desperately to understand all of these new concepts he was informing her of, "wait a minute. So, you are telling me that back when you had your rut, you created some psychological link between the two of us, and you thought it would be a bad idea to inform me of this because…" she circled her hands, hoping he would be able to give her one hell of an answer to this particularly embittering truth.

"Because, I thought the damn bond would die," he snapped his answer condescendingly. "Look, you know I never wanted a family, let alone a mate. So, I thought letting you go would be best for all involved. It was not until last night that I realized letting you go was not an option. As much as we would both like to think we are each so damn irresistible to one another that we have been unable to desire any other, the reality of the matter is that we cannot. A Saiya-jin bond glues two people together for all eternity, but ours was only in the first stage, I thought it could be broken, but apparently I was wrong. I still want you, and I know you still want me. We have no choice; we must complete our bond and become mates, just as we agreed to in the dream."

"This is insane," Bulma could barely say much more. "I do not believe any of this. I do not understand any of this! Yesterday you care nothing for me, now you want to spend the rest of you life with me because of some dream?"

"I know this is a lot for your meager human mind to understand, just like the concept of 'love' is for my Saiya-jin self, but the fact still remains that barring all other elements, you and I are passionate only for each other. We would be denying ourselves to ignore that," Vegeta took a few steps closer to his mate to be, as he wrapped his arms around her stiff body. "Listen to me, Bulma, I know you are confused, I am as well, but if there is one thing I know, it is my heritage. A bond was very sacred to the people of Vegeta-sei. I never imagined having the chance to partake in one, let alone feeling the desire to complete one, but I do, I know this is right, I can feel it. So, if you trust me, you will come to me tonight, and we will join," he paused taking a short breath before resting his forehead against hers, "but I will not force you. I will wait for you tonight, and no other. I am laying my pride aside for you, Bulma, but only tonight." Finishing his explanation, he gently kissed her on the forehead, and then turned to leave without any supplementary dialogue on the matter.

Once she was alone in the kitchen, Bulma sunk to the floor, her knees still weak from his uncharacteristically gentle words. Lost in a sea of information, one question plagued her thoughts more than any, 'What in the name of Dende am I going to do now?'

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Author's Note: Hmm… Will Bulma come to Vegeta as he asks? Or will her stubborn nature and her too-many-times-broken heart steer her away from what she knows she wants? Find out next time…