Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Free My Heart ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own or profit from DBZ

A/N: I feel compelled to point out that I enjoy romance novels immensely, which should be obvious by my style of writing. Though most of the time I do think they are sadly lacking in content. Why can't they have an exhilarating adventure and find true love?

Thank you again for all the kind reviews. I'm so glad you guys are continuing to enjoy this as much as I am.

 

Free My Heart

Bulma sat with her bare bottom on Vegeta's lower back as he did yet another push-up. His stamina and virility were a constant amazement to her. She loved to watch him exercise, and when he told her he needed more weight to become even more physically powerful she was more than happy to donate her time and her bottom.

His tail was firmly wrapped around her upper thigh to keep her in place, as he rhythmically thrust himself up from the ground. Absently, she trailed her fingers through his thick dark fur, practically purring as the soft hair ran under her nails.

“What's your heart's desire, Vegeta?” she asked lazily, a contented smile stretched across her lips. They had just spent the last few hours having fantastic sex, and she didn't think she could get any more relaxed.

He grunted, ignoring her to continue his regimen. Her weight shifted over his back, and he could feel her swollen wetness against his spine. Flames spread out from where she touched him, warming his entire body with liquid heat. The fire she inflamed under his skin when she touched him was addicting. He savored it, was intoxicated by it. He found himself making excuses just to touch her so he could feel warmth in his core, instead of the freezing cold residing there.

“Oh, come on. Tell me. Please,” she cajoled prettily.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, you lunatic.”

She expected him to be slightly out of breath, but his voice was steady if not surly. She pouted a little, leaning back on one elbow. She steadied herself at the center of his back so she wouldn't list off to the side before replying.

“You know, the one thing you want most out of life.”

She felt the muscles beneath her bottom flutter then go ridged. She loved the tiny dance of his muscle across his back. They spoke volumes when he was silent.

“Immortality. I will be strong enough someday to kill my enemies and exact my revenge,” he spat, clearly thinking of those who he would like to murder with his bare hands.

She clucked her tongue, not in the least effected by his temper.

“Immortality doesn't necessarily mean strength. What if you ended up with eternal life, but were helpless to stop another from throttling you?”

“I'm the prince. Undefeatable in battle.”

Bulma rolled her eyes, and played with the tip of his tail. It was waving up at her, taunting her to trap it between her fingertips. She was sure he wasn't aware of the movement, it was just the way he expressed agitation. Not unlike a cranky housecat. She smiled at the thought, and curled the fingers of the hand resting on his back, so she could feel more of his skin next to hers.

“Well the undefeated prince is currently imprisoned, and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be any different if he was immortal.” Her voice wasn't snide, but it definitely had a teaching tone to it he chaffed under. He was silent for a long moment, considering her words. He had dreamt of immortality for as long as he could remember, but now it seemed a child's fantasy. Perhaps he needed to reconsider what he really wanted. More than anything he wished to see the death of his tormentor Frieza, and to rule over the universe as he was meant to. There was only one way to do that.

“Legendary,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Bulma questioned, unable to hear him clearly.

“Immortality and power. Happy now, woman?”

“Me,” she asked innocently, shrugging. “This isn't about me, Vegeta. It's about you. Besides, that's not what I'm talking about. That's your ambition dream. I was asking about your heart's desire.”

“My what?” he snapped, and she had to balance herself as he increased his pace. His tail tightened over her upper thigh, holding her steady so she wouldn't fall and hurt herself.

“You know, your ambition dream. The one you tell everyone. For instance, I have fifteen year plan, which everyone interprets as my `dream'.” She used air quotes as she spoke, even though he couldn't see her. “It ends up with me being the most successful woman in the world, as the CEO of Capsule Corporation.”

“Sounds worthy, for your weak human standards.”

Bulma rolled her eyes and chuckled. An insult and a compliment all rolled into one. Wasn't she a lucky girl?

“The problem is it required me to be perfect in every way. Perfect grades, perfect inventions, perfect business woman. Never ever make a mistake. Never be a woman. But deep down, I have a true heart's desire. Something, I've never told anyone.”

Vegeta came to a halt, his arms fully extended, her weight braced easily on his back. Defeated, he dropped his head down between his arms, groaning in mock agony.

“Gods, not this again. Doesn't that brain of yours ever shut off?”

Bulma thought about it seriously for a minute. She was tempted to hum the Jeopardy tune, just to keep him in suspense.

“No, not really. Now do you want me to tell you or not?”

“Will you shut up afterwards?” he asked hopefully, already knowing the answer. Sweat rolled from his temple to the point of his jaw, and he swiped his cheek against his bulging bicep to wipe it away.

“Probably not. Besides, who else am I going to talk to? Mister Tinkle Pot?”

“Who?” Vegeta snapped, clearly pissed but uncertain why. If she was insane and manifesting hallucinations, he didn't want to know. He needed her to be sane. He needed her to be exactly the way she was. Not any different. And if it wasn't a hallucination, he didn't want to know about it either. The thought of her telling another man about her dreams, however ridiculous, made him want to rip something apart. She leaned further back, the feel of her soft, satiny skin against his making him hunger for another taste of her. She extended her arm past his face, pointing to the corner of the room.

“You named the toilet?” he gasped incredulously. The woman never ceased to amaze him. Maybe she really was a lunatic.

She shrugged, entertained by the surprise in his tone. “It seemed appropriate; after all it's the most intimate I've been with an appliance in a long while.”

Choked laughter briefly escaped him, but he clamped his lips together, locking away the foreign sensation of amusement. Lightness and warmth rioted briefly in the steel cage of his chest, and he had to refocus his dark gaze to smooth sheen of metal between his hands, rapidly doing another series of push-ups.

“I want true love.”

Vegeta's shoulders rolled and Bulma almost fell off. Her hand slicked against his sweat dampened back when he came to an abrupt stop at the upright position, his muscles rock-hard.

“What?” he hissed.

“I don't mean now, Vegeta. Gees. Get a grip. I meant before. Before all this happened, and my life wasn't turned upside down.”

Slowly he lowered himself, falling back into the routine again.

“You see love wasn't in my fifteen year plan. I think that's why Yamcha and I broke up after ten long years. Deep down we both knew he wasn't the one. He just didn't make me tingle. There was no spark. I always hoped I would meet some stranger, and get swept away by passion. But Bulma Briefs doesn't get swept. She doesn't miscalculate ever. My life was going exactly as planned. Every beautiful, perfect, utterly loveless bit of it.”

Vegeta had no idea why he was getting so pissed off the more the woman talked. It certainly wasn't her reference to a man she had been fucking for the last ten years. He knew for damn sure she wasn't a virgin. He wasn't bothered one bit by it. It wasn't his fucking business. He had fucked plenty of women before her. He didn't fucking care.

“Love? That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard,” he snarled, and instantly regretted it.

Bulma shot up to her original sitting position. She would have gotten off his back entirely, but his tail wouldn't release her. The tip flicked her skin angrily, before soothing against her inner thigh in silent apology. It took her a moment to realize that Vegeta was just lashing out because he was upset. She tried not to think it was her mention of Yamcha. It would be counterproductive of her to even consider Vegeta as the monogamous type. They certainly weren't going to get married. Hell, she might not even been alive in a couple of days.

She decided to let his nasty remark slide, but she didn't lean back either.

“Yes, love. True, burn me up with passion, the other half of my soul, love. Love that remains strong even as you grow old. The kind of devotion you would sacrifice everything for, knowing in your heart you would do anything for them. To be assured that nothing could ever tear you apart, and they would never leave you. That it would absolutely kill you to be separated from them. The knowledge you would never be alone.” Bulma sighed deeply, as emotion welled up inside her. All she ever wanted to be was loved. Truly, without censure or judgment. To be needed so badly by one man, that only death could keep them apart.

“You truly are fucked up, aren't you?” For the first time, Vegeta didn't speak to her in a tone of ridicule. He sounded almost sympathetic. It was his tone that made her stay, when his cruel words wanted to make her flee. “What you are talking about doesn't exist. It's a huge fucking lie. It's a fairy tale men spin for women so they can get between their legs. An excuse women make up to cope with their loneliness.”

“I'm not lonely,” Bulma snapped, ignoring the tight clench in her chest as her emotional bubble popped. She had been lonely since the day she was born. Her parents were the ones to show her the meaning true love. They had a blissful marriage, and only had eyes for each other. A match made in the society pages, a wealthy older inventor marries beautiful debutant. Unfortunately, Bulma was just an afterthought in their lives. Their beautiful talented daughter they sent off to boarding schools and universities so they could have their time together.

“Sure you are. You'll find some prick who'll feed you all the lies you want to hear, and you'll lap it all up. Probably some pathetic weakling who won't be able to care for you properly. You have poor judgment like that.”

“I don't need a man to take care of me,” Bulma spat, truly pissed. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yah, it shows,” Vegeta scoffed.

“That's unfair!” She slapped his shoulder hard, the sound of smacking flesh ringing through the room. “This entire situation is unfair!” She smacked him again. “I was never prepared for this.” She slapped him one last time, her palm stinging from the contact. “My world being destroyed, my family murdered, everyone and everything dead. It's just---,” her words broke off in a ragged sob. She dug her nails into the meat of his shoulder where her hand finally came to rest. Vegeta didn't even flinch at her abuse, and silently he was appreciative of it. He knew sometimes the only way to relieve emotional agony was to dole out some physical pain. He was no weakling, and he could easily take anything she chose to dish out.

“Horrible. Yah, I get it. And you need to get over it. It's done. Live with it,” Vegeta told her scathingly, no pity or mercy in his rich baritone voice.

She sighed, unconsciously rubbing away the sting of her abuse, her hand lightly massaging his shoulder. Defeated, she leaned back on Vegeta, so her head was cradled between his neck and shoulder. She tried not to be hurt by Vegeta's words, but it was hard. Every time she thought about her home, all she wanted to do was cry. So instead of thinking, like she had done her entire life, she was feeling. A foreign concept, but it was soothing in a way. She didn't have to think about the consequences of her actions, only how they made her feel. For instance, how absolutely wonderful it felt to have Vegeta inside of her, stroking her, holding her.

Bulma's long blue hair cascaded down the length of his arm, piling over his hand. He watched as the blue waterfall gleamed in the light as he moved. He had never seen hair like hers. It was silky to the touch, the deep aqua color of oceans. Small strands always managed to find their way to him, clinging onto him desperately even when she moved away.

He heard the defeat in her small exhale of breath, and he couldn't help, but to prod her. If she gave up now, she would be dead within days of being released from their cell. Pure despair would murder her soul even as she continued to live on.

“Being capable means being adaptable. Being adaptable means being able to survive,” he educated her quietly, thinking of his life. He had been raised a prince, but lived as a slave. As a child he had been unprepared for the horrors he had to endure, but endure he had. It was what made him strong. It's what made him who he was.

“You know what lies?”

Vegeta noted the fake lightness in her voice and he didn't answer. If she wanted to change the subject then he didn't mind. He didn't want to dwell on his past, and he certainly didn't want to think about what happened to her. After all, it was he who brought all that misery to her. A fact, she conveniently seemed to have forgotten.

“Romance novels,” she observed seriously. “It doesn't matter how plain the girl is, the gorgeous hunk always falls madly in love with her. Just one scent of her perfume or sound of her voice and he's lost. He never looks at another woman again, because a little voice inside his head growls, `mine'. There are no men on Earth like that. It's a total sham.”

Vegeta dipped his shoulder, and with a surprised shriek Bulma rolled off his back and landed on the ground beneath him. He trapped her there, his hands on either side of her face.

“You've gone on and on about absolutely nothing. A weak womanish fantasy, that isn't worth all the effort your little mind seems to be putting into it.”

She pouted up at Vegeta, her sapphire eyes narrowing. She was utterly beautiful. Her lower lip was begging to be kissed, her skin was meant to be caressed. His tail curled around her waist possessively, the tip dipping into her belly button. She squirmed, and he almost smiled. The little dip in her belly was delightfully ticklish, but she wasn't in the mood to admit it.

Mirroring his aggressiveness she curled her fingers around his collar. Red lights winked out from dull, gray metal, daring her to uncover their secrets. Her fingers brushed against his pulse, and she could feel his blood leap beneath the burning heat of his skin. She tried to pull him closer, but he refused to be moved. His elbows locked into place, as he stared down at her. He ignored the lank of sweat-dampened hair falling across his forehead, making him look just a little roguish.

He turned his head to the side, glancing down at her hand from the corner of his eye. His dark lashes crested over his cheeks, before his gaze flickered to her aroused breasts, lingering on her pearled, pink nipples before meeting her gaze again. His expression was that of a wolf, having spotted its next meal.

“You have no idea what I'm going to do to you once I get this collar off.” The smoldering intensity of his promise made hot, wet sensation gush to the apex of her thighs. She tingled so badly, she had to press her thighs together in attempt to alleviate her sudden discomfort. She had no idea what he meant by his statement, but she really wanted to find out. She swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on her original train of thought.

“True love does exist, Vegeta.”

Vegeta's black eyes flared as he glared down at her. “You just said it was a sham.” Using his tail he arched her body up towards his, watching her full breasts jiggle. His grin sharpened and he gave her another tiny shake.

“No, I said romance novels are a sham. Men just aren't like that. What I'm talking about is love.”

“Well, you are definitely sniffing around the wrong place for that, woman.” He dropped her, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. He tried to unwind his tail, but Bulma slid her free hand down its soft, sleek length, her fingers curling around him intimately. She chuckled when he shuttered at her touch. He could still see sadness in the backs of her brilliant, blue eyes, but he forced himself to ignore it.

“Don't worry, tough guy. You definitely aren't marriage material. I would be a fool to believe you would ever commit to anyone, especially me. I'm just a weak human from Earth and you are some bad-ass alien. We are hardly compatible. It is just circumstance that has pushed us together.”

He lowered himself to rest his weight on his elbows. She spread her thighs so he could lay between her legs. As far as he was concerned their nonsensical conversation was over and he deftly evaded her original question of what his true desire was. The best way he knew to keep her mind off it was to distract her completely.

He rubbed his cheek across her naked breasts, relishing the feel of her soft skin. She really was small and delicate compared to him. Truly the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He inhaled deeply, imprinting her unique scent on his brain.

“True, I'm not from Earth, but we are definitely compatible in every way that counts.” He murmured, against her skin, thrusting his hips suggestively against hers.

She arched against his hard body, and delved her fingers into his hair. Reluctantly he lifted his eyes from the expanse of her creamy skin to look at her. She smiled up at him, and he was momentarily blinded at her innate brightness. She was the most beautiful when she smiled. She curled her arms around his neck, bringing him into a drowning kiss that burned away all the stray thoughts in his mind except for how much he desired her.