Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Free My Heart ❯ Chapter Eight ( Chapter 8 )

Free My Heart

Vegeta stood defiantly in the corner, wearing Thorn's soft pants. Though they were too big, after he rolled them up at the waist of few times, they were tight enough to stay on. To accommodate his tail, they rode indecently low on his hips, accentuating the soft convex of his belly resting just below his laddered abs. There was a hint of shadow between his prominent hip bone and the curve of his groin begging to be licked. For days she had inconspicuously stared at the thick heavy length of him. She knew exactly what lay beneath the gray fabric, and somehow now he was covered it was far worse for her. She wanted to run her fingers down the bare, smooth skin of his hip, catch her nails in the material and give it the tiniest little tug.

It was her thoughts keeping her sane, instead of going stark-raving mad. Her fantasies were keeping the reality at bay.

Zarbon was just inside the door, watching as slaves swiftly moved in and out, removing the body and cleaning the blood off the floor and walls. It had been two days since Vegeta killed Thorn. For two days he grew cold and stiff on the floor. For two days he rotted into putrescence less than three feet from where Bulma slept.

She was on the cot, her back to the room. She refused to be moved by either Vegeta or Zarbon. She still wore Thorn's shirt, the hem barely covering her ass, but she didn't care. She did care about keeping it. God help anyone who tried taking it from her. She was at her breaking point. She was tired of being vulnerable, helpless to defend herself from those who wanted to abuse her. She deserved the dignity of covering herself, and she would stop at nothing to claw out the eyes of the next man to touch her.

The sweet smell of decay was replaced by the stringent scent of antiseptic. Bulma inhaled deeply, relishing how it burned her lungs. Until now she thought horror was almost being raped. She thought it was the destruction of her world and the murder of her family. But now she knew. Horror was being trapped in a tiny room with a rotting corpse, its yellow eyes following you wherever you went.

The sounds of slaves disappeared, but the door didn't shut. Curious, Bulma looked over her shoulder. Unconsciously, her eyes flickered to where Thorn had lain for two days. The slaves had done an excellent job of cleaning, but Bulma could see the dark shadow of his body in the reflection of the stainless steel.

She glanced at Zarbon who lounged in the doorway, one arm braced against the frame. It was a very unusually aggressive male stance for Zarbon, and it surprised her enough for her to flip around to face the room. He was glowering angrily at Vegeta, who was standing arms crossed, his trademark sneer planted firmly on his arrogant lips.

“My Pretty is very upset right now. Do you know what it's like to have a mate who's upset, Vegeta?” Zarbon made a curt dismissive gesture through the air. Strands of emerald hair fell across his furled brow. “Of course you don't. Who in their right mind would have such a disgustingly, frustrating wretch like you?”

One side of Vegeta's mouth curled up in a half-smile, making even Bulma want to slap him.

“What's the matter? Can't get that pathetically tiny piece of flesh between your legs hard? Or is it just not big enough to satisfy him anymore?”

Zarbon's lips spread across his perfect pearl teeth in a menacing snarl. Bulma could see something reptilian ripple just beneath his creamy green skin. Vegeta's arms dropped from his chest to rest loose and ready at his sides. Zarbon's amber eyes flared gold before he visibly reeled himself back, stepping just out of the room. Very calmly he brushed his bangs away from his forehead, smoothing his ponytail.

“By not playing along, you've ruined our game. Now, Jeice is too busy pouting to even talk to me.”

Bulma raised a brow at Zarbon's sullen tone. If she didn't know better, she would think he was genuinely upset at his boyfriend's behavior. Perhaps they really were lovers in the truest sense of the word. The thought gave Bulma pause. If even the most evil could fall in love, did that mean they could change for the better? She glanced at Vegeta, her mind wheeling at the idea.

“I would say that I'm sorry, but that would be a lie,” Vegeta was back to smirking, but there was something different about it. There was victory in his eyes. He had won the battle of wills between him and Zarbon. Another point had been tallied in his favor.

Bulma dropped her eyes to her lap. When Jeice told her she was a pawn, she felt despair. But now she realized Vegeta saw her in the same light as his enemies. A pawn in their on-going struggle for dominance. Now instead of despair she felt betrayal.

Bulma heard the screeching sound of warping metal. She glanced up in time to see the heavy, steel door bounce back towards Zarbon. The bottom panel where their food was served from was dented. She could only assume Zarbon had kicked it in a fit of fury.

“Well, time is up Monkey Man. We have to go down to the surface for a few days. Seems like some locals are giving our boys problems. But when we get back you can kiss your cellie goodbye. We are going to have some quality time together before she gets shipped to the whore's quarters though. It should be fun. It may even cheer Jeice up a bit.” He stopped to scan Bulma, his eyes lingering at the hemline of her shirt just at her thighs. She refused to move. To show any fear. She wouldn't cry. Not now. Not when they took her. Not ever.

He ignored her defiance, and sneered at Vegeta. “You on the other hand, are going to spend the rest of your sentence all by your lonesome so you can think about how fucked you're going to be when you get out of here. I've already got the perfect mission to convince Lord Frieza to send you on. If you don't die, you'll wish you had.”

Zarbon's hateful glare was burned into Bulma's brain as he slammed the door shut, locking them in. Bulma watched the door for long moments, before rolling over to face the wall. She stared at the silver steel, looking at her distorted reflection. She wondered how long she would stay beautiful. With her stunning good looks, it was a safe bet she would be a hit at the brothel. She would be in high demand. It would take time, but she knew the pain and suffering, the humiliation and the inevitable disease would wear her down. Soon she would be a vacant shell, her looks fading away. Unfortunately she doubted even that would save her. She would just get demoted to serve less ranking soldiers.

She wondered how readily available narcotics were on the ship. She had always been one of those goody-two-shoes, fresh-faced, say no to drugs kids, but now it seemed appropriate. Floating in a sea of nothingness would be a dream come true. No sensation, no awareness. Just peace.

“You're crying.”

She hadn't heard Vegeta come up behind her, but she wasn't startled. She was too deadened to feel anything.

“I am?” she asked softly, touching her fingertips to her cheeks. Sure enough her face was wet with silent tears. “I promise it will be the last time.” She dropped her hand, and went back to sullenly staring at her visage.

Vegeta watched her. It was the first time he had ever seen her cry without making a sound. Usually she wailed like a banshee, but this time the only way he had known was by the salty scent of her tears in the air. This time it was different. This wasn't self-pity. It was hopelessness. It was her, giving up on life.

“I can't save you from the whore quarters,” he said gruffly, suddenly, inexplicably mad.

“I didn't ask you too.”

He could buy her he supposed. He had more than enough money. But he had no idea how long it would be before he got out of the dungeon. It could be days or weeks. By then it would be too late. She would have been raped by dozens of men by then.

His fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't move. And if he did buy her it wouldn't be long before she was dead by political assassination. He had many enemies who would take delight in slowly torturing anyone remotely connected to him. Especially someone so weak they couldn't protect themselves. He wouldn't be able to protect her either. He left on missions for months, even years at a time. She would be better off as a whore. She would probably live longer that way.

“I'm not free to do as I please,” he spat at her venomously. She hunched her shoulders against his wrath, drawing her knees to her chest. Her silence enraged him even more.

“I can't save you!” he shouted, standing over her.

She rolled over, her eyes spitting fire as she rose up on her knees to draw even with him.

“I didn't ask you too,” she screamed back, pummeling him in the chest with her tiny fists. “Why would you? I'm nothing to you. Just a pawn. Just plaything for your sick games. I hate you. I hate you all!” she shouted fiercely.

He rocked back at her assault. It was true. When he realized he had won the battle of wills with Zarbon and Jeice, he had been elated. Even imprisoned he had been able to defy the odds and not break. All he had to do was stay in his corner for two more days. All he had to do was walk away. Not touch her. Not feel. Do nothing.

He gripped her upper arms and pulled her into his broad chest. Her breasts heaved against him with every breath she took. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her mouth was parted in awe. She didn't have time to struggle away as he descended on her, covering her soft mouth with his full lips. He kissed her deeply, sucking the air from her lungs. Her eyes rolled back as she savored the strong taste of him on her tongue. Something visceral wrapped its way around her lower belly. All her fear, worry, the insanity lurking at the edges of her mind, disappeared with the touch of his hot skin against her, the taste of him on her lips.

He broke away abruptly, just as she was exploring him. She felt his loss intensely, deep inside where an insistent ache had begun to bloom. Her glittering sapphire eyes shot open to glare at him. She was stunned and wanting all at the same time.

“I can't save you from the brothel, but I can save you from Zarbon and Jeice.”

She blinked, peering deep into his eyes. She looked past the darkness into the fire. She allowed herself to be hypnotized by the dance of the flames, paralyzed by the heat.

“But then you'll lose.”

He would lose. He would lose the respect he fought so hard for over the years. He would lose a piece of himself when she was taken away. He would lose his pride at the weakness he would feel in his heart when she eventually died. He thought about being thirteen again. How he had been ruled by emotions and hormones. All his wants and needs tangled up into an indecipherable ball in his gut. How in the moment, when he watched his blood pour out of him, all he wanted was to die. The knowledge he wasn't fit to lead burning in his throat, how he would never be the prince everyone needed him to be.

Bulma didn't make him want to be a prince. She didn't make him want to fight for dominance. All she did was make him want to stand up and be a man. Her man.

The fire in Vegeta's eyes leapt, and Bulma knew it wasn't flames of destruction, but those of desire.

“I've lost before.”

She gasped and it wasn't until that moment she realized she had been holding her breath. His words shook her to the core. The thought of him sacrificing such an intrinsic part of himself, his pride, just to save her from this one thing, it made her want to weep. It was the last thing she wanted from Vegeta. She would never ask it of him. She didn't want to be saved from him. She wanted to be wanted.

She pulled away, her lips trembling. “It would change nothing. Whether its Zarbon and Jeice or a entire crew of men. Unless a miracle happens, it will be done. I don't want you to sacrifice your pride, because you feel sorry for the poor, pathetic, Earth girl. I would never take something so important from you, and the last thing I need is a pity fuck.”

His fingers tightened on the sensitive skin of her underarms. He wouldn't let her fall back into a puddle of self-pity on the bed. He forced her to look at him. To see him.

“It's my choice, not yours,” he bit out scathingly, his eyes dark glassy pools.

She heard his anger, could feel it vibrate through his fingers straight into her spine. Her lips thinned mutinously, and her eyes narrowed.

“It's my choice to say no,” she spat, still angry at everything, even him.

He growled low and deep in his throat. She shivered in his grip, barely resisting the urge to gather herself against his chest so she could feel it ricochet through her body. It was a wholly animalistic sound. A deadly warning not to play around, to run, to hide, but all Bulma wanted to do was bask in it.

“The universe does not revolve around you, little female. I do nothing for the sake of others. I feel sorry for no one, and I do not sacrifice anything out of mere pity. Have you not once considered my motives?”

She looked up at him searchingly. She fell into his deep, endless eyes, her mind whirling in circles. There was no strategic value to sleeping with her. There was nothing she could give him, and it would only decrease his strength in his enemies' eyes. There could only be one reason he would do so.

“You want me?” Her voice broke, and she lost the ability to breathe. She trembled as hot, liquid desire spread through her chest.

“Haven't I said as much?” he glowered at her, his dark brows clouding.

She choked on the breath caught in her throat, and she fell forward into his wide, bare chest. She pressed her face against the warm skin above his heart, her fingernails skimming over his ribs. He still held her by the arms, suspended but not separate from him. He stood still beneath her touch, allowing her to hear the beat of his heart.

“You want me,” she whispered again in awe, soaking in the pure, fiery heat of him. She knew if she grew to be a hundred she would never know warmth like his again.

“Hmm.” Vegeta slid his hands down her forearms, his strong fingers gently encircling her fragile wrists. He lowered his head to sniff her hair, seeking her floral feminine scent. Even after days of just taking baths in the sink, deep down beneath the grim of the dungeon, she still smelled of flowers and rain. It was a singular scent, hers alone and no one else's. She leaned into him, nuzzling his neck, her lips ghosting over his pulse. His heart quickened at her touch, the feel of her silken skin against his. “What is it you want?” he whispered into her ear.

She drew her head back, her lips brushing his. “You, Vegeta. To be touched gently one last time. I want you to kiss me.”

His lips descended over hers, his tongue delving deep inside her mouth. She melted into him, giving her entire self over to him. He released her wrists, reaching around to cradle the curve of her bottom in his palms. She was round and smooth. She fitted against him perfectly, pooling liquid heat in the vast emptiness inside him. She fitted against his chest as though she was made to be held there. So delicate and graceful, a dream formed into reality just for him. He lifted her up, pulling her hips into him so she could feel the hard press of his shaft against her cleft. So she could feel how much he wanted her, needed her—absolutely craved her.

The soft material of his pants rubbed against her enticingly, teasing her with the thought of his velvety skin just beneath the thin fabric. She wound her arms around his neck, her hands smoothing over his layered muscles almost reverently. He was so strong, enormously powerful even without his ki. The instinctive female inside her purred at the thick bulge of his muscled under her palm and the feel of his rigid stomach pressed against her softer one. The way he held her to his chest, made her feel delicate, cherished. Something to be handled with loving care.

She peered up at him, but she was surprised to see his lashes crested against his tanned cheeks. Warmth exploded in her chest at the sight. Vegeta vulnerable and trusting, fearlessly closing his eyes while kissing her. Somehow she knew the dangerous predator holding her normally wouldn't take the risk. Even in his most intimate moments he would be vigilant against an attack, but with her he was solely in the moment. Indulging only in her, and thinking of nothing else.

Her lashes drifted shut, but at the last moment darkness flashed across her line of sight. A strangled gasp of distress bubbled up her throat. She tried to force it back, but failed. The memory of Thorn rotting on the floor sickened her. She squeezed her eyes shut, drowning herself in sensation to escape reality.

Vegeta's shoulders stiffened under her hands, but he didn't stop kissing her. His lips were warm and comforting, but aggressive in their wants. He tasted her, slipping his tongue across her lips before devouring her whole. With an erotic swirl of his tongue he managed to distract her from sadness, shutting the world away until only they existed. He dragged her off the cot, her toes dangling above the floor as she clung to him. One large hand, fingers splayed so he could feel as much of her skin as possible, slid up the curve of her back to bury itself in her long tangle of hair. Her head grew light and black dots danced across her lids, but she refused to let him go. She wanted to die right there in his arms. It was her own personal heaven.

He pulled away and she moaned in disappointment. He peered into her eyes, looking deep into her soul.

“Can you see the darkness?”

Her smooth brow creased. She knew there was darkness inside Vegeta. Deep down in his soul, but when she looked at him all she could see were the bright burning flames.

“I see fire.”

A small smile graced his lips, and her heart fluttered in response. She had never seen such an expression on his face before. It wasn't mocking or leering. It was the purest reflection of him she had ever seen. His eyes flickered to the side, drawing her attention to the floor behind him.

“I meant the darkness on the floor. Some people can't see it, but death always leaves a remnant.”

She inhaled sharply, realizing the shadow on the floor wasn't just in her imagination. She nodded slowly, her lashes dipping to cover her jewel-bright eyes. Very carefully, Vegeta lowered her to the ground, sliding her body over his in a tease. Her fingers curled over his biceps to keep him close, but he placed his hands on her hips, pushing her aside.

He reached down with one hand and flipped the cot up onto its side. The thin mattress slid onto the floor between the wall and the upended frame, creating a tiny concealed space. He led her to the foot of the bed, so she could crawl onto the pallet. She stood for a moment, glancing between the stain and the wall Vegeta had created.

He towered over her from behind, but she didn't feel intimidated. She felt protected. He inhaled, and she leaned into him, knowing he wanted her scent. Small blue hairs clung to his bare chest and she could feel the gentle tug on her scalp when she turned her head to speak to him.

“Are you putting a barrier between us and death, Vegeta?”

Behind her, he shrugged, compelling her to turn around. She looked searchingly up at him. He didn't respond to her question, but she refused to move away until she had an answer. He braced his hand on the bed frame, leaning towards her, casting her into his dark shadow.

“Impossible. I am death,” he told her ominously. “And right now, even the Gods wouldn't dare get between me and your tight little body.”

Her face warmed at the blatant desire lacing his rich voice, and the passion in his dark eyes. She folded under his intensity and she looked down, noticing the nearly imperceptible skeins of blue hair catching on his chest connecting them. She lightly dragged her nails down his washboard stomach until they caught in the waistband of his pants.

“I don't believe you are death, Vegeta.”

He very intently followed the path of her delicate, long fingers, watching as they dipped beneath the roll of his pants. His eyes darted up to her face, but her focus was solely on her hand as well.

“Then you are a foolish woman, Bulma.”

She didn't look up at him, but a faint smile curved on her lips. She clenched her fist in the material, her knuckles brushing crisp dark hair. She may be a foolish woman, but she was only moments away from having him completely. Even it was only for a day or two. Who else in the universe could boast such a claim? She pulled on the cloth, gratified when the folds came undone easily, falling to the ground around his feet. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the musky male scent of him.

His long, thick length thrust up towards her, the fleshy crown weeping to be touched. She trailed her fingers over the tip, smiling as it bounced in anticipation. He felt hot and smooth, like warmed velvet. Her sparkling blue eyes darkened, becoming half-lidded, and she wet her lower lip invitingly.

Suddenly he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look up at him. What she saw took her breath away. His dark, lean features were intense with desire. His hooded eyes smoldering with burning need. He pulled her into him, brushing his cheek against hers.

“Between you and the remnants of death, then,” he whispered into her hair, almost if he was trying to appease her in some way by conceding a small point, before pushing her back on the mattress.

She went willingly, laying back as he stretched over her. He kissed her again, and she sighed into his mouth. He kissed like a god. Strong and forceful, but gentle and teasing. His tongue swept along the soft crevices of her mouth, searching for secrets, but he already knew all she had to give.

He gathered up her shirt in one big hand, breaking their kiss to whip it over her head. It was thrown over the barrier, but Bulma barely noticed. She skimmed her hands over Vegeta's chest, exploring every swell of muscle and sculpted divot. He was hot to the touch. Almost burning. She loved the heat of him. The smooth, dryness of his skin. Touching him was like touching a bronze statute warmed in the noon-day sun. There was no softness to him. Not even his full lips teasing hers. His scolding heat was everywhere, even at her core.

He rubbed against her and she hissed, a sharp intake of breath through her tiny white teeth that made his entire body shudder in response. He slid his open mouth down her neck, feeling her pulse against his tongue. He scattered tiny kisses across her collar bone, gathering up her breasts in his hands so he could swirl his tongue over her nipples. She tasted like sunshine, even deep within the dungeon. Her ivory skin was like silk, and when he slid his dark hand over her, he could feel the heat arc between them.

She rocked against him, mewling in delight. She arched her hips, slicking her wetness against his thick cock. Her hands swept over his broad shoulders and down his arms, searching for perfection and finding it. He kissed and caressed her. He made her want to scream in need, but he always stayed ahead of her. Always stayed in control.

“I want to touch you all over. I want you in my mouth. I want to taste every inch of you,” she sobbed as he kissed her belly button. His hands tightened around her waist, and she could feel each individual press of his fingertips near her spine.

“No,” he whispered gutturally, his warm breath ruffling against her tight blue curls.

“Please,” she begged, straining up towards him. She felt something soft and strong wrap around her leg, tickling her at the indent of her knee. Her breath caught as his tail laced its way down her calf to grip her ankle in a possessive hold.

“I can not.” He licked her inner thigh, and she spread her legs. “Not yet.” His tongue slithered over her swollen clit, and she bucked off the floor. Vegeta held her down, tasting her again. She was so sweet it made him hurt. “Maybe after five or six times, I'll be able to find the strength.” His voice was strained with aching need, and Bulma felt her entire body respond. She needed to fill that need for him. She needed to soothe his ache.

“Yes, please. Let me.”

His hot breath blew against her and he took one long swipe of his tongue along her slit. Light and colors exploded behind her eyes, and she convulsed off the mat. Vegeta gathered up and sat back on his hunches, her legs stretched wide over his thighs. He kissed her deeply and she could taste herself mixed in with his flavor.

One of his hands was spread across her upper back between her shoulder blades, and the other lifted her up from beneath the curve of her ass. His soft tail released her ankle and curled around her back to help support her, wrapping around her ribs so the tip rest between her full breasts, flicking excitedly against her sensitive skin. She could feel the thick, hardness of him pressing against her entrance, and she moaned happily into his mouth. He lowered her, but she locked her knees in place, breaking their kiss. She looked down into Vegeta's upturned face, staring intensely into his eyes. She needed to see him as they became one. She wanted to burn in the fire of his eyes and float with him for eternity. She wanted him to know it was her, and only her he held.

He swallowed hard, staring back.

“Last chance, Bulma. Say no, and escape the darkness.”

He was poised at her entrance, his rounded tip prodding insistently against her tender lips. She placed her hands on his lean cheeks, forcing him to keep their eyes locked.

“I see only fire, Vegeta,” she whispered against his lips.

She let her body sag as her lips melted over his, sinking down onto him. He groaned into her mouth, his hips rising to meet hers. They moved together as if made to be one. Vegeta's already naturally warm body became furnace of heat, burning her thighs and breasts. Sweat prickled under her hair and along her spine, her pale skin grew flushed and slick. They rocked together frantically, unable to keep the indulgence of their kiss. Bulma threw her head back, letting her long hair wave down to her waist, her nails digging into Vegeta's shoulders to keep herself steady.

Vegeta buried his face in her plump breasts, lathering kisses across her hardened nipples. He gripped her hips, riding her up and down his hardened cock. She curled her fingers across his shoulders and he breathed. She moaned and he thrust. She whimpered in release and he came.

Bulma felt her entire body shudder, all the way down to her toes. Her head was thrown back, the overhead lights burning into her lids, when they suddenly shut off. Rejoicing in darkness she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Vegeta's shoulders, as he pressed his face into her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss on his forehead. The light cast shadows, but the darkness showed her only truth.