Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Free My Heart ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

WARNING: Rated for Vegeta's crudeness and just overall surly behavior. IE: Language and sex talk.

 

Free My Heart

Bulma was shivering so hard from the intense cold her bones felt like they were coming apart. The water had been freezing, and she was drenched from head to toe. Jeice led her back to the cell, pushing her inside with carelessness. She glanced around for the blanket, but unsurprisingly it was missing. All that was left was the stripped down cot in the corner of the very cold, metallic room.

She gathered up her long hair, wringing it out the best she could. Water splashed on the metal floor, sounding like tinkling chimes in the wind. She knew that she had to get as dry as possible or hypothermia was going to set in. She slid her hands over her arms and legs wiping away moisture as she made her way to the cot. Her teeth chattered together, and no matter how much she clenched her jaw she couldn't get them to stop. She curled up on the mattress in a tight ball, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying to keep as much warmth in her core as possible.

Vegeta watched the woman's jerky movements. He could tell she was well on her way to freezing. Although he was just as drenched as she, his naturally high body temperature burned off the excess water quickly, keeping him comfortably warm. From the looks of the bluing skin around her lips, and the way she was sporadically shaking, humans didn't have the same abilities as Saiyans.

He turned away so he didn't have to see. His behavior in the bath disgusted him. Never in his life had he ever put himself in harm's way to protect another. Granted stepping in front of the spray was of little consequence to him, though it may have saved her life. If the first blast of water to her chest hadn't broken her ribs, a sustained burst may have.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Even now he could see the area around her ribs darkening as blood pooled beneath the skin. If she didn't get warm soon, she would die. And if she died now, what would have been the point of saving her in the first place?

Her teeth were chattering, but beneath it, he could hear her muttering something repeatedly. Again with the noise. The woman was never silent even when she was dying. He suspected she would even rot loudly.

“What did you say?”

He refused to look at her as he spoke. He glared angrily at the far wall, his arms crossed defensively.

“P-prime n-numbers,” she stammered. Her words were barely audible, prompting Vegeta to turn and face her.

“What?”

“I-I'm r-reciting prime numbers. S-s-so I won't be s-so c-cold. `C-cept I c-can't s-seem to remember…” Her words trailed away, her eyes growing distant. He frowned down at her, his black eyes coldly assessing. She was curled up so tight he was surprised her entire body didn't seize. Even if he tried to get her up to move around, she wouldn't be able to regain the necessary body heat in time.

He stepped closer, looking into her darkening eyes. She stared back, unseeing. Swiftly he made a decision, and once committed there could be no sway in his course. It was one of his traits that made him such a ruthless leader.

Wordlessly, he lifted her up and settled himself so he was on the cot, his back braced against the wall. He laid Bulma on his chest, her lower body between his lifted knees and wrapped his strong arms around her back. Bulma started to protest, but once she felt his burning hot skin against hers, all she could do was gasp in relief. She wound her arms around him, and curled her knees up so they were flush to the backs of his thighs.

She buried her face into his chest and breathed in everything that was Vegeta. He didn't smell like any other man she ever met. She smelled chlorine from the water, but beneath it there were scents of heat and blood. Sex and violence. Hunger and need. And beneath all that, even deeper was the throbbing pulse of power. It made her mouth water, and her eyes tear. She rubbed her face across his chest, rubbing her nose against him like a contented cat, drinking him in, savoring every nuance.

Vegeta stilled beneath her touch. The way she stretched against him was almost animalistic. She was scenting him, indulging in him, coating herself in him. Whether she realized it or not, she was marking herself as his.

He thrust her back, his strong finger banded around her forearms. Bulma's drowsy eyes met his hard calculating ones. Her skin was beginning to flush with heat, but by the vacancy in her eyes, he doubted she was fully aware of her surroundings. Her actions weren't that of a comprehending woman, they had been instinctual.

She frowned at him, whimpering at the lost of his heat. His eyes narrowed, but she didn't respond to the proposed threat. He snorted in disdain, satisfied that she wasn't trying to seduce him. He settled her back on his chest, relieved when she merely found a comfortable niche and remained still.

However, her movements had done more than just arouse his irritation. His body was generating even more heat than usual. Partly in response to her cold body now blanketing him, but mostly because he wanted nothing more than to accept her invitation and spread her legs to fuck her at his leisure.

He shifted his hand between them so he could cover his erection with his palm. He was hard, his tip already weeping with want. He created a gap between their bodies, and curled his tail between them to hide his embarrassment. It wouldn't be long until she regained her senses, and his hard cock was bound to catch her notice.

He tilted his head back against the wall, staring at the bright lights until he saw spots. Slowly he counted his breaths, willing his body to come back under his control.

“Tell me something.”

Her soft breath feathering over his chest brought him back to the present more than her words. He closed his eyes against the light, his head still tilted back.

“Tell you what?” he questioned sourly. He would have been more forceful, but he was afraid of getting even partially worked up. At least now her teeth weren't chattering and she could speak in clear sentences. Her flesh still felt cool to the touch though, and her wet hair was an icy mass trailing across his ribs.

“A story. Anything to get my mind off how cold I am. Tell me about you.”

“Keh. My life is no bed time tale; it's more of a horror story if anything.”

“Even better. I used to love telling ghost stories, and horror movies rock! Better than some lying chic flick. True love, my ass.”

He sighed heavily, and she curled around his chest in response. Her small kittenish nails trailed along his ribs before coming to rest beside his spine again.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he replied hollowly, still hiding behind closed eyes.

She smiled and he could feel her lips caress his skin.

“When we get out of here, I'll show the wonders of my kick-ass, awesome DVD collection. Better yet, I'll take you to the theater.”

Her words cut off with a painful gasp, and Vegeta knew she was remembering that there was no more DVD collection or theater. He shifted his hand down her back, telling himself it was more about warming her exposed skin than it was to comfort.

“I'm going to die down here, aren't I, Vegeta?” Her words were barely a whisper of air across his skin, but they rang loudly in his ears. He shrugged in response, not wishing to answer. He had spent many times down here in the dungeon, and he had always lived to see the next day. But he was strong. He always persevered. He was a warrior first and a prince second. He would never allow himself to die as a prisoner.

“And if I don't then I'll just end up the ship's whore.”

Vegeta's upper lip curled, seeing Jeice with his hand between her legs in his mind's eye. He had so much anger inside him, boiling over at the edges, just waiting to burst through. It was hard for him to imagine being able to harbor anymore inside his soul, but when he saw her--the fear in her flashing blue eyes, how tiny she was compared to Jeice, something inside him roared to be free. He saw blood for just a moment, and he knew he was lost. The moment he felt anything but disdain for another living person would be the moment heralding his downfall.

“You don't say a lot, Vegeta.”

“What would you have me say? Should I tell you lies, spin fairy tales out of air?” he snapped at her. She hunched her shoulders, her face sliding down so her cheek was pressed against his sternum. Her soft breasts were pillowed against his rigid stomach, and he could feel her nipples harden. He bit his inner cheeks, keeping his face tilted away.

“Just tell me a story.”

“I have no stories. Just truths. I was stolen from my home. Forced into slavery. I serve a master I hate. And the only thing that gives me joy is when I spill another's blood. I was born in hellfire and I live to spread it across the universe. Because at least if the universe is burning then no one will notice how my soul is burning up with it.”

The last part slipped out without Vegeta's consent, and his arms tightened around her in anger. He crushed the air from her lungs, but she didn't try to squirm away. She remained as still as possible, playing possum to his wolf. Her chest burned, and silent tears slipped out the corners of her eyes, dripping onto his chest. They burned like acid, forcing him to loosen his grip. She inhaled swiftly, her nails curling and relaxing with her breath.

“You know what I like about you, Vegeta?”

Vegeta slowed his breathing, trying to regain his calm. Unconsciously, he matched his breaths to the curling of her fingers.

“This should be rich,” he muttered, wondering if he was dead and this really was hell.

“You tell the truth. Unlike most people who lie and cheat to get their way, you just boldly tell the right of it. Even your face tells the truth if you don't actually speak the words.”

“Is that so? You can get all that from my face? There's quite a few people out there who would beg to differ.”

“That's probably because they don't look you in the eye. If you look beyond all that darkness you can see.”

“What? Emptiness?”

“Fire.” Hellfire was left unsaid between them. Time lapsed, and Bulma's hair began to dry. Vegeta combed his fingers through the stands, silently marveling at how silky it was.

“If I tell you my deepest, darkest secret, do you promise not to tell?”

Vegeta snorted, his fingers working through a tangle. She stretched against him, relishing his heat and touch.

“You told me yours, it seems only fitting I tell you mine.”

“What makes you think that was a secret?” He scented her hair, concentrating on anything except her words--her understanding of him. He dropped the tangle he held, pressing himself against the wall. He couldn't get away; she was poured over him like a second skin.

She shrugged and some of her hair slid off the smooth expanse of her back to tickle his ribs. A few days locked in a cell with him and she was already presuming to know him. He had even been inside her yet.

Yet

But he would be. He promised himself. Zarbon's and Jeice's games aside. The woman so casually lounging atop of him was going to find out what it was like to be prey. His prey. No one who dug around so intimately in his mind would ever get away with it. In fact, she was warm now. He should be dumping her on the floor, like the trash she was.

Yet.

Yet, he couldn't seem to find the strength to move. He was drugged by her presence, by the heat between them. Her soft voice and innate flowery scent was hypnotizing him. She spoke, and he strained to hear. She moved, and his muscles rippled in response. She curled her fingers, and he breathed.

“Do you want to hear my secret or not.” She pouted against his chest, and it felt like a kiss. Beneath her words he could hear pain, and he wondered if he really wanted to hear what she had to say. What were the chances he would ever come across someone in this universe who was unbroken? He didn't reply and she took it as assent.

“When I was sixteen I ran away from home. Well, truly, I ran away from the university where I was working on my second PH.D.”

Vegeta dipped his chin to glare down at the crown of her head. He could see the white line of her scalp, and her aqua blue hair spilling down around her shoulders and his ribs in a riot of curls. Her face was hidden beneath it all, but he could feel her speak against him.

“That's your big dark secret? The princess ran away from home? Well fuck, no wonder you're neurotic,” Vegeta sneered with sarcasm so thick it practically dripped on her.

Bulma bit him.

Right on the rib.

Vegeta went ramrod straight and it was all he could do not to leap up, flip her around, and impale her with his hard cock right then and there.

“Shit! Fuck! Knock it off, woman.”

“That's not my secret. Stop being mean.”

“Fucking gods! Do you know who I am? I'm the fucking incarnate of evil. As a matter of fact, I'm done with this heart-to-heart, pink fluffy moment crap. Get the fuck off me.”

“No!” She climbed up, straddling his thighs and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I don't think you really want me to go.”

In her new position, there was no mistaking Vegeta hard, thick cock nestling tightly against her wetness. His tail was crushed between them, and he had to yank it away to prevent it from being injured. Her face was buried beneath his chin, and he could feel her hot, panting breath feather over his throat.

Anger boiled in his veins, because she was right. He didn't want her to go. He wanted to lift her up and slide every inch of himself into her. He wanted her so bad it made his teeth ache and his chest tight.

Instead, he threaded his fingers through her hair, cradling the back of her skull with his palm. He tightened his fingers into a fist, and ruthlessly pulled her away from his chest until she was sitting upright, her head wrenched back. For the first time he got a truly clear view of her breasts that wasn't tainted by another man's hand. They thrust forward, red, hard nipples cresting plump, white flesh. They were just round enough to fit in his hand perfectly without overflowing. A dark bruise was spreading across her ribs and down her belly, matching the one on her cheek, and he frowned. Her long torso nipped in at the waist, her hips flaring out dramatically, making a perfect nest for her thatch of blue hair between her thighs. She really was beautiful in a way that Vegeta hadn't seen in a long while.

“Well if Jeice is right, then the sooner I fuck you, the sooner you'll be taken out of here to the whore quarters. Shit, maybe they will even let me out of here. At the very least I won't have to put up with your whining anymore, and all I have to do is ride you on my cock.”

Her eyes were closed against the pain, and her full lower lip quivered. He just knew she was going to start crying again. All the woman did was cry. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean too. I'm just scared and frustrated. I don't know what to do. I'm lonely, and I thought for a moment I could make friends with you.”

“I'm not the friendly type.” Disgusted, he tossed her to the side, trying not to wince when she tumbled off him to land on the floor beside the cot. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, ignoring the spreading cold that centered in his heart and wrapped around his ribs.