Feeding Genius - Chapter two

Disclaimer - I suffer from an obsessive compulsion with regards to DBZ this does not however (as much as I want it to) mean I own it. That's the privilege of Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation and Funimation etc…

WARNING! - This chapter contains material of an adult nature. If you are under 18, or find scenes with sex and strong language offensive then do not read any further! ~Ember~

Sex Across the Bosses Desk

Dinner had passed well enough. Investors hung around the large table filling their faces with the sweet taste of honey-roasted duck, whilst I outlined the objectives to them for the next financial year. Smoke filled the room as countless numbers of them joined their discussion with the additional comfort of their favourite cigar. The smell was strangely comforting, but it still couldn't stop me from feeling the protracted stare of piercing blue eyes that radiated lust from Mr. Simmons.

To be frank the way he leered anonymously over my body, and his lips parted enough to show me the tip of his tongue as it ran suggestively over his lip when he was sure no one was looking, made me shiver in disgust. There were times throughout the whole where I wanted to go up to him and slap him hard across the face, just to wipe away the suggestiveness that dripped from his countenance.

Ultimately I was proud of myself. I managed to control the bloodlust urges that being married to a Saiyan seem to have instilled in me as a new character trait, and quiet the desire for blood as I rounded up the meetings proceedings with relative restraint. It was agreed that a contract would be drawn up within the next week and that all those present would attend to sign it at the end of that time.

With little hope of gaining pleasure from the rest of the evenings entertainment, I left my guests shortly afterwards to try and find some company that I wouldn't feel so awkward in. I decided to drive my way though the throng of meticulously materialistic trophy wives and headed to my study and the private alcohol cabinet to share my disgust with a bottle of Southern Comfort.

The lights were off as I entered but I didn't make a move to turn them on. The soft radiance from the hall illuminated it well enough and so selecting my tipple from the cabinet I extracted a tumbler and sat down at the large leather chair, to look out through the ceiling to floor windows undisturbed.

"Having fun?"

The whiskey had only just touched my lips as the words were rasped sarcastically.

"Yeah!" I rolled my eyes, "I just love surrendering a night of passion with you to be reduced to hiding from disgustingly officious investors in my own home. I'm having a ball!"

In one swift motion I downed the contents of the glass.

"The nights still young." That damned smirk pulled at his face, "Plenty of time left for fucking. You owe me onna!"

I giggled into the glass, wagging a finger in his face, "Fucking yes, but I said passion Vegeta."

"Aren't they one and the same?"

I angled my head in mock anger, "If you want an argument all you have to do is ask."

He chuckled and having found a glass of his own, slammed it onto the desk in front of me, "Well if you insist - Pour!" he demanded.

"Get your own drink!" I apostrophised, hugging the bottle close to my chest and fluttering my eyelids, "My Southern Comfort!"

"Ugh! You sound just like the boy!" he growled, leaning over the desk and making a move to swipe my drink, "I thought brats were supposed to get their mannerisms from the parents, not the other way around."

"I've had enough of being serious for one day. See this fake smile?" I leered at him with the biggest of forced Cheshire cat grins, "I've worn this for the last three hours. Do you want the wind to change and for me to stay like this forever?"

"I can safely say that that face is the only thing scarier than me! Put it away and pout all you want."

"Thank you!" I spun childishly on my office chair, "I will, but first…" I forsook the use of a glass and took a swig straight from the bottle, "A little pick me up."

Vegeta quirked his eyebrow in a way that always manages to make me smile. It was that ever-present battle of curiosity and pride. I get to see it less and less these days as he has become more familiar with our culture, but just on occasion I'll use an expression that is alien to him. I remember the feeling it fluttered in my heart that night as it always does when he looks so deliciously lost.

I debated on letting him know the meaning, but its so much fun to see him puzzle that I decided not to. He hates having to have things explained to him, takes it as an insult to his intelligence, and I wasn't about to ruin anything as rare as his playfulness.

I didn't wait long. His consternation soon melted with the mood and I found myself hauled from the plush chair and up to his body, my pelvis pushed into his chest as he held me so my feet couldn't touch the ground. He pushed us both back onto the desk, and his hand swept along my arm to that which held the bottle, manipulating the limb so that he could sample the liquor for himself.

His face crinkled in disgust, "I don't know why your species is so addicted to this stuff. It tastes like crap!"

I didn't even react to the harshness in his tone. Having lived with him for so long the abrasiveness is all but worn out. "Just another release from the tedium of life I guess."

"Really?" he took another swig, only to keep it in his mouth and bring our lips together spilling it into my own, "Then why do you drink it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't have an answer to his question. Life with him was anything but boring.

"That is not an answer." He pushed me roughly to the desk, his hand bruising over my breasts as his mouth claimed mine, the passion invoked, nothing short of amazing, "Maybe you would like me to fill in the blanks?"

His knee parted my thighs, his leg rubbing where I needed contact the most. It made me gasp and forget any retort that my brain might have started to meld into words.

"Let me explain Bulma," The words were forced in a deathly quiet to my ear, "Remember that I have been watching you closely. I watched you every minute, even when you would think it was impossible. For some reason fate has handed me the affliction of not being able to tear my eyes away from your body. That does not however mean that I am blinded to others around you. I saw everything you saw." There was a pause, as suspenseful as he could possibly conjure, and his voice deepened, "Everything!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

My false expression of innocence was blatantly obvious, but I did not wish to hide it. Jealousy is an emotion that sits far too beautifully onto his features to be ignored. I took a kind of sadistic pleasure in the fact he felt it so powerfully. It was his own fault. He must have known that I could not possibly want another man after being with him. Looking back I would not have pushed the emotion as far as I did.

He growled raking his fingers roughly up my thighs, the cuffs of his shirt trailing behind, "Don't give me that look onna, the whole group of them were staring at you. You may or may not have missed it, but my senses are more heightened than yours. I could smell the lust radiating from them."

"And what's it to you Vegeta? Surely you aren't jealous? After all, look where you are now?"

I lifted my eyes to fix firmly on his, their hollow blackness pulling me under an intoxicating spell.

"Yes," he agreed, his hands pushing my dress up to concertina around my waist, revealing the black lace and velvet of my panties, "Look where I am."

His head dropped and I could feel his breath, heated and panting as his lips met with my thigh.

"You know there was one in there whom you were not so blind to wasn't there?"

His caress travelled higher and his tongue licked at my entrance through the fabric of my panties. He knew full well that I wouldn't be able to answer. "The human at the other end of the table from you seemed to watch you more intently than the others. I saw your reaction to him. He even had the audacity to flirt with you so openly in our own home, but then perhaps he had encouragement? I saw the heat rise to your cheeks when he spoke to you."

"You bastard!" I shouted, thrashing a leg to try and kick him, which, I might add he caught with perfect ease, running his fingers teasingly over it as he removed my underwear with the other, "You know full well that I was pissed at him Vegeta. I'm not a fucking teenager. I don't blush at pathetic perverted men like that anymore! Its just as I told him two weeks ago - I'm not interested."

"Ah! Now the truth comes out," His speech was interrupted as he delved inside of me. Licking at my inner walls until my breath grew ragged and then retreating to run over my clitoris with the appendage. I could feel myself shaking at his touch, as though the power running through his body was being sensed by my own and driven mad by it.

I clasped my fingers in his hair, and (much to my frustration) he lifted his head in reaction to the contact, "When were you planning on telling me about this?" he growled, the anger that was slowly consuming him, mixing with the lust that held him equally captive.

I pushed my pelvis up to him, "I wasn't!" I conceded.

He ran a hand where his mouth had left, trailing a finger to rub my nub as the other delved lower, three of its fingers pushing roughly into me, "and why not?"

My body shook at his touch. I could feel the pressure building at his masterful strokes, the fluttering feeling building in my belly, "I… I… knew… you… w… would… Oh Kami!"

"Knew I would what?" he demanded, but my body disobeyed him, filling all my senses with the power of release, washing away his questions and purifying my thoughts to concentrate solely on my climax.

He let me recover for a few minutes after as he freed himself of his trousers. I was left breathless as he exposed his arousal. It stood tall, the glisten of pre-cum already on its surface. I smiled knowingly. We are one and the same. There is a thin line for us between blind rage and passion. It can consume us both, overflowing so completely into the chasms of despair, but just on occasion the two combine so flawlessly as to leave us little hope of feeling anything other than the intensity of each other.

His tones were calmer now as he reclaimed my lips in the briefest of kisses, "Knew I would what?" he repeated, intent on hearing my answer.

"Knew you would get mad."

"I've been that all my life, you knew from the first day of our union that you were giving yourself to a madman. Why should it give you concern now? Unless you actually care for the aging moron?" His fingers interlaced with mine as he pushed his hips with crushing weight down onto me, "Is that it Bulma? Did you not tell me because you knew I would get mad and hurt him?"

I nodded, a tear slipping from my eye. The hurt in his voice was very evident and made my stomach clench. It was then I knew something was wrong. I had thought he asked the questions in his playfulness, to get a rise and argument out of me. Now I knew the truth of it. He wasn't playing; he was interrogating, using my body against me. Lulling me into confessing things that I would not if my mind was clearer.

"You do not want for him to get hurt?" he continued, this time the tip of his penis pushing at my opening.

I was in no mood to refuse him and willed him on. I reasoned that if we continued I might be able to turn the tables on him, manipulating his actions as much as he was mine, with the added bonus of getting sex. "No, he's too important."

I could feel Vegeta tense at my words, his muscles hardened under my skin as he gripped at my backside, his pace much more forceful under my confession.

"To you?" he spat in distain.

The harder contact felt amazing as his penetration deepened, the intensity of his strokes defusing concentrically through me. My hands clawed, looking for something to share in the passion I was feeling, but Vegeta held firmly onto them.

"Answer me!" he demanded his breathing starting to become more laboured under his exertions.

"Yes!" I admitted, "Capsule Corporation needs… his… back… backing."

One of his hands left his grip on my bottom and moved to the front, flicking over my sensitised clitoris in keeping with our pace. I bucked my hips up to him in eagerness, but he pushed them away, almost as if he was showing his anger through our lovemaking. His posture exuded confidence and even though the obvious ire at these revelations was placed firmly on his brow I could see the flicker of emotion that it tried to hide as it glinted tempestuously in his eyes.

"So you do care for him?"

The pace was erratic by this time. Vegeta wouldn't allow either of us any leverage and I confess that I was enjoying every second of his confessional. If this were to be the way he would squeeze information from me then I would willingly let him try for all the skeletons in my closet.

"No!" I protested, "Personally I can't stand the smarmy little shit!"

He automatically relaxed at my words and chuckled into my lips as he brought them together. I'm still not sure if it was my imagination or not, but I'm sure I saw the smallest amount of relief spread momentarily over his countenance. I could have been wrong though, because at that moment he chose to rub more frantically at my nub, the head of his manhood expertly finding my g spot at precisely the same time. It sent my senses into a free fall that I wouldn't be able to recover from.

My climax approached faster with every renewed thrust, its glorious power hitting from both angles, increased in desire and strength as it triggered the beginning of Vegeta's own. I could feel him groaning and slowing trying to hold onto his control and prolong his enjoyment, but I was determined not to let him. My own release helped me and I didn't care about his precious composure. I wanted to waylay it. Knowing that I could inspire such loss of cohesion in someone who had been trained to guard it and took so much satisfaction in its construction, was added pleasure to my already overflowing body.

The reaction was pure instinct. Give him the pleasure I wanted, and which he wanted from me. Take him tumbling over the edge with me and cum together, attempting to gain an equal footing. "Are…?" my grip on language was by this point pretty thin, "Are you jealous?"

"N…never!" he reiterated, "N…ever of a h…human!"

I could see the concentration on his face; he would not give in. I pushed him further, keeping the pace that he had relinquished as his face beaded with sweat and he searched for some kind of rule over the lust that was betrayed by the groan that vibrated his vocal chords.

I looked intently to him as I rode, "Yamcha?" I implied.

His face blackened, his teeth gritted in a feral snarl as he once again joined the pace, the intensity in his eyes thick with an emotion I could not tell. "I was n…n…ever j…ealous of that fuck…ing piece of… human shiiiiiiiiiit!"

His eyes rolled and thrusts became more poignant, and our conversation was put on hold. His grip on reality was lost as he came inside me, his body stiffening as it was enveloped in the feeling. Slowly my prince came back to me his fingers clawing protectively in my hair as his head lowered to the nape of my neck.

"Bulma…" He still rocked slightly in me. "I was not jealous. I knew you would come crawling to me. You need me…" His voiced dropped to the barest of whispers, "…and I need you. Warn that insect you call a business associate to keep his lusts to himself, because so help me Dende if he so much as looks at you in that way again, I will take great pleasure in ripping his weak pathetic body to pieces limb by limb! Do you understand me?"

"I understand Vegeta."

He gave me a curt nod and extracted himself from inside me, pulling me gently up by the hand from my completely dishevelled desk. Almost instantly my shoulders slumped, as the reality of the situation was sinking in. I understood Vegeta's words were not to be taken lightly, but how the hell was I supposed to stop the perverseness of such a seasoned hentai? It was absolutely impossible.

A hand landed roughly on my shoulder, disturbing my thoughts. Vegeta's head lowered and he used a finger to lift my chin. He seemed to study my face for a moment before he spoke. "The answer is simple Bulma. Stay away from him. Your father can handle his finances well enough."

I nodded mutely, completely unconvinced by his attempted words of comfort. He had his back to me as he pulled his trousers back on and buttoned up his shirt. His head tipped to the side as he stared out into the corridor. "I would make yourself scarce for the rest of the evening. It sounds as if your guests haven't finished with their free champagne yet."

"They'll be here for a while Vegeta, the dancing hasn't even started yet, and I'll be expected to lead the example. Care to join me?"

"No." he said with perfect calm.

"Would you prefer I danced with Mr. Simmons?"

"No!" he repeated with heightened agitation.

"Then what's a girl to do? I'm certainly not dancing with dad! Besides it would be nice to introduce the world to my husband. You've become something of a talking point."

"How so?"

"Just in your illusiveness. The Herald ran an article last month on the subject. I think the headline was something like… 'Bulma Briefs' Immaculate Conception' I think they finally came to the conclusion that Trunks was either the result of a final fling between myself and Yamcha, after our public split, or that I was so drowned in grief over losing his love that I decided to have a sperm donated child just to get back at him."

Vegeta's face was an amusing mixture of disbelief and utter contempt, "Fucking journalists! Surely even they can put two and two together. Don't they have those damned pictures of us on your fathers yacht?"

"Oh come on Vegeta they were taken by a boozed up teenager on the back of a jet ski five years ago. They were so blurred and out of focus that it could have been just about anyone! Only my hair and the livery on the side of the yacht gave me away. Everyone else seemed to assume I was with Yamcha given that all you could see was black spiked hair."

"Perhaps this is true," he deliberated, "but people saw us together earlier."

"Oh yeah!" I said sarcastically, rubbing my temples. "They saw us talking to each other in a room full of guests for all of five minutes. Lets stop the press!"

"I don't understand why it is so important to you?" he conceded, picking up the carved sculpture of Shenlong that adorned my desk, and looking over it curiously, "What exists between us is private. I am not about to broadcast it to the whole of Chikyu. Its bad enough that the Z fighters know."

I walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he tensed almost immediately. I can still feel the way my heart clenched at the indecision in his eyes. "I can't stay away from Mr. Simmons." I reasoned with him, "Dad handed complete control of Capsule Corporation over to me two years ago. He's retired now. I have to deal with this my own way. I think he just needs to realize that I'm not available. The press seem to think I'm free. Its possible he thinks so too. Dance with me tonight and shut all the assholes up once and for all. Whadda ya say?"

At first Vegeta looked distrustful, but slowly his face turned into such a profoundly evil smirk, that I almost regretted my persuasiveness. "It sounds like we have been mates far too long. You know just which buttons to press onna! But…" he warned, "If we are going to do this then it will be under my dictation. Lets give the snivelling baka's a good show. I will not give in until I get it through every single one of their vain heads that Bulma Briefs belongs to one creature and one creature alone… ME!"

I didn't even get a chance to say anything in response. He walked briskly to the office door before I could find the words, leaving the snapped order of, "Hurry the fuck up!" as he disappeared down the hall.

I stayed still a fraction longer wondering what the fuck I had just talked myself into, as I carefully smoothed my dress and readjusted my hair and make up. I remember feeling sick with the mixture of expectation and doubt that churned through me. Nothing, however, could have prepared me for the scene that was to take place on the innocence of a crowded dance floor that evening and I now hang my head in shame as I recall the breaking point.

"Damn you Vegeta!" I whisper in the present, my voice filtering dejectedly around the empty bedroom, as a tear falls over my cheek, "You had nothing to prove!"

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A/N - I know its short but this is my pet project, purely for my own twisted little mind to play about with so chapters will be late and will ultimately differ in lengths, comparative to my inspiration. : p I hope you guys don't mind. Let me know what you think.