Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hot Summer Nights ❯ Hot Summer Nights ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.

Warning: Explicit sex and candid talk. Acknowledgement that women can have a strong sex drive that needs to be satisfied. Naughty words will abound.

Hot Summer Nights

Bulma stood on the walk, watching as the limo pulled away. Once the red brake lights disappeared into the night, she sank down on the cement step with a defeated sigh. Inside the house she could hear the muted drone of the television. She knew that it was too late for her parents to be up, so that left Vegeta. Unconcerned with her expensive brand name dress, she reclined on the walk, sighing as the cool cement pervaded her being. The moon was fat and lazy overhead next to the dancing diamond stars in the cloudless sky. The sultry night air was heavy with the kind mid summer heat that sunk deep into your pores, and showed no signs of abating even though the clock was creeping towards midnight.

She couldn't believe how overwhelmingly disappointing her third date with Randy Conrad, star quarterback for the West City Strikers had gone. She had thought for sure she would be getting laid tonight, but he turned out to be a total dud. She didn't meant to be crude about it, but it had been over two years since she had gotten any. Yamcha and she had never officially gotten back together after his resurrection, and the handful of dates with the few men who had passed her rigorous background checks hadn't panned out. She wasn't a slut, as much as she would like to be at the moment, and therefore she wasn't just going to sleep with any jackass off the street. Besides as the heiress of Capsule Corporation she had a reputation to protect. Picking up guys at the bar was not part of that reputation.

But there was just something about the summer months that put her libido on the prowl. The heavier and hotter the weather, the heavier the ache in her loins became, and let's face it, there was only so much her vibrator could do.

She needed a man. Desperately.

There was a clatter of cheers behind her, and Bulma surmised that Vegeta was watching one of those no hold barred, bloody cage matches on pay per view. It was the only thing he deemed worthy on the television to watch. She tilted her head so she could see the faint flicker of lights through the window.

The Prince of Pricks was the source of most of her frustration. Although she could hardly bear to be in the same room as the condescending jerk, there was no denying that if she could get him to shut up and not insult her for ten minutes she would have no problem using his cock as her personal toy. He was prime grade A beef with an extra helping `please fuck me' on the side. He was a genuine bad boy; lethally dangerous, icily unavailable, and drop dead sexy. An irresistible combination for a woman who could have it all with a snap of her fingers.

Unconsciously, her hand caressed her inner thigh, her fingers tracing over the silky material of her dress. It would be so easy to slip her fingers under the short skirt and slick them over her clit, right out here with the night air kissing her skin. The pleasure would be momentarily intense, but ultimately unsatisfying. Bulma drew her hand away with a defeated sigh. What she needed, what she craved was a man. A strong, virile man who could fuck her like she so desperately needed. She clenched her hand in her dress, her manicured nails digging through into her flesh.

She tilted her head towards the house again. She wasn't a slut, but she knew what she wanted. It would take weeks for her to hunt down a suitable man, all of which would be meaningless, because she would just find another flaw in his character. She wanted Vegeta. True, he was a complete ass, who would treat her like dirt if she let him, but she didn't. That was part of the challenge with Vegeta. Getting him to see her as an equal. And he did have some redeeming qualities. Aside from not killing anyone lately, he had rock-hard abs, an ass that wouldn't quit and the lips of a sex god. And good god, he had the “V”. That defined, hard, lower belly that formed a V between his hipbones. Sure she was shallow, but she was okay with that. Men didn't have the corner market on admiring the assets of the opposite sex.

Bulma wiped her hand over her face, steeling herself before hoisting herself off the ground, and dusting her dress as she walked inside.

“Holy Hell! Why is it so hot in here?” she gasped as she slammed into a wall of heat. Sweat instantly beaded in the hollow of her throat and rolled down her bare back. She threw her clutch onto the couch, stalking over to the window. After a struggle she slid it open and was rewarded with a barely noticeable shift in temperature.

She turned towards Vegeta expectantly, still waiting for an answer to her question. He was sitting in the only lounger that was placed slightly askew from the couch. She watched hypnotized as he took a swallow of his Corona, the way his lips wrapped around the amber bottle, how his throat tightened as he swallowed. Her eyes kept sliding downwards, over his naked sweat-slicked chest, down to the waistband of his loose black shorts.

“The unit that cools the air is malfunctioning.”

She jerked her gaze away from his crotch and back to his full, wet lips. She looked away, fanning her cheeks.

“Good grief. Well, it's too late to fix it tonight. Where are mom and dad?”

Vegeta took another swig of his beer before answering. Bulma licked her lips as he swallowed. A cold beer was looking rather tasty.

“They got a room at a hotel.”

That made sense. They wouldn't be able to withstand the intense heat in the house, much less get any sleep.

“Why are you still here?” she asked as she walked towards the kitchen.

“I am unaffected by the heat.”

“Of course,” Bulma muttered, opening the freezer door. Cold air washed over her in a refreshing wave. She stood there for a few minutes, her eyes closed as her body chilled. Finally, she reached into the ice maker, scooping out a crescent-shaped piece of ice and popping it into her mouth. She closed the freezer and opened the fridge, grabbing a long neck from the door. She used the edge of the marble counter to pop off the cap, shrugging at her mother's mental chiding as she flipped it into the garbage.

She paused at the archway, spying on Vegeta who was intently eying his program. One of the fighters delivered a perfect roundhouse to the head of his opponent, dazing him and forcing him to stagger back into the wire wall. Vegeta smirked in approval, his upper lip curling over his canines. Desire clenched low in her stomach, saturating her with arousal. Her hand tightened on the bottle neck. The idea of hitting on and being rejected by Vegeta was daunting, but if she gave up every time she was faced with failure she wouldn't be the brilliant businesswoman she was today.

She took a deep breath, and walked up behind the couch. In a pose of pseudo negligence she leaned over, bracing her elbows on the back, and pillowing her breasts on her forearms so they nearly spilled out of her neckline.

Vegeta lifted his chin and sniffed the air, before cocking his head to look at her. She noticed his behavior and she covertly sniffed herself, wondering if her deodorant had worn off. To her disappointment he didn't seem to notice her breasts, but there was a cruel, mocking twist to his lips that made her nipples tingle.

“I take it that your social engagement didn't go as planned.”

Bulma, who was thinking about activating the porn channels in Vegeta's room to get him interested in sex was jerked from her thoughts by the unexpected question.

“Why would you say that?” She tilted her head to the side as she asked.

Vegeta stared at her long enough to make her shift her weight uncomfortably. He turned away, staring at the TV.

“Clearly, the male was unsatisfactory.”

He took another sip of his beer, dismissing her. Bulma straightened, watching Vegeta's chiseled profile carefully. Her lips parted as his inference struck her deep inside where her muscles quivered. She licked her lips as a thought struck her. Did she dare be so blunt? So nasty? So completely inappropriate?

Bulma dropped her gaze. One hand was wrapped around the base of her beer, but the other was caressing the neck in an imitation of sex. How she wished she was caressing something else. What she was about to do was so completely taboo for her that it made her a little wet thinking about it. She took a calming breath before looking straight at Vegeta.

“You're right.” His eyes flickered towards her before training back on the TV. “I was hoping to get laid tonight. It has been over two years.”

“Disgusting creature.” His words were meant to be offensive, but she saw how his eyes lingered on her breasts before he spoke.

“What?” She pretended to be affronted. “Are you saying you don't even think about sex? As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, unless you got some tail on your way to Namek it's been at least two years for you too.”

“I am not discussing my sex life with some third rate female from this backwater planet,” Vegeta snarled, now fully engaged with her and not the television. It was all Bulma could do not to crow in victory.

“Oh I'm far from third rate, especially in bed, but don't you mean lack of sex life?”

Vegeta snorted and looked away. Bulma scrambled to regain his attention as boldly as she could.

“Don't you miss it? There is only so much your hand can satisfy, wouldn't you agree? I dream of a man's lips kissing the hollow of my throat, his hand on my breast, his hard, thick cock thrusting between my legs.”

She was lost in the fantasy, her fingers trailing down the side of her neck. She could feel her pulse beneath her fingertips and she was so wet she had to press her thighs together.

“Stop that trash talk this instant!”

Bulma's eyes snapped open at his hostile tone, her hand fluttering away like a startled bird. Vegeta was glaring at her, his eyes dark.

“If you had uttered all that nonsense to that worthless male tonight then he would have jumped you like the slut you are, and I wouldn't have to be subjected to such degrading conversation.”

Bulma's breath caught in her throat as rejection stung in her chest. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes, the glint of his beer bottle in the dim light capturing her gaze. It was nestled between his legs, strategically shielding his crotch from her. She dropped her gaze further, veiling her triumph beneath long lashes.

“Oh, he didn't reject me. No man ever does. When he unzipped in the limo for me to blow him, well…” she trailed off in a laugh. Vegeta was glowering at her, his eyebrow twitching. Bulma sobered, meeting his gaze.

“You know.” She tapped her pinky nail on her bottle with a sharp clink. “Too many steroids.” Vegeta continued to glare, and Bulma grinned. “Huge, bulging muscles, itty bitty-“

“Vile female.”

Bulma laughed again. “I do have standards, you know? Not just standards, but expectations. I'm a beautiful, intelligent, talented woman. I deserve the best of everything. And if a man thinks he's good enough to fuck Bulma Briefs then he better be packing a big payload. I mean, how am I supposed to blow him if I can't even find it?”

“Blow him?”

Vegeta was staring steadfastly at his program so he didn't notice her lips part in shock. She wouldn't have even heard him if there hadn't been a lull in the applause. It hadn't occurred to her until now that he might not understand some human terminology. This was her opportunity to be as arousing as possible. She leaned over the couch, shifting her weight so her legs where slightly spread.

“Mm, well, I take my tongue and run it all over a man's cock, just teasing him a little before I press the crown against my mouth. I like to keep my lips wet and tight so it feels like he's breaching a tight, virgin—“

“Foul, vulgar, perverted woman.”

“Oh, I don't know. I'm very good. It's one of my favorite things to do. Don't you miss it, Vegeta? A woman's tongue licking the swollen head of your cock. Her lips closing around it. The hot silky warmth of her throat as she swallows you.”

He hoisted himself out of the chair and stomped out of the room without a backwards glance, leaving Bulma open-mouthed and heavily disappointed. She collapsed over the back of the couch in utter defeat, her face pressed into the cushions. After a few moments of oxygen deprivation that did nothing to alleviate her arousal she pushed herself back up.

“Oh, well. Time for a cold shower,” she groused, stomping up the stairs.

Vegeta tracked Bulma's movements through the house. He was seated in one of the padded bamboo chairs by the pool, his hand cupped over his throbbing cock through his thin shorts. He ground his teeth, willing with every fiber of his being for his erratic penis to be as easily controlled as any other muscle in his body. Since coming to this world it seemed to have a mind of its own, especially within the female's proximity. He did not want to be aroused by the foul woman's dirty talk. By her, period. Lust for any woman was not on his agenda. There was no reason to give into something that could be scrubbed away in his morning shower. Abstinence left him free to continue training without the mess of some human emotional entanglement.

She did have a point though. It had been more than two years since he had a woman pinned beneath him. Or on top of him. Or in front. Fuck. More like three, in fact. And she had been right about one other thing. His hand wasn't nearly as satisfying. Or wet. Or silky. Damn it. Maybe he did need to get laid. In the past getting tail was obscenely easy, but the last few years had gone by so quickly. His defeat on Earth, his death on Namek, his quest for the Legendary, they had all consumed his time and energy. However, there was no reason for him to deny himself further. True, he was still training, but in the evenings he was free to prowl the world for suitable females. Not this female course. This one was too dangerous. Even if she was awfully eager to get on her knees for him. But when things eventually went bad, and they would, he would be at best homeless, at worse, under attack by those fools that called themselves warriors. It was far too much risk for only a few minutes of pleasure.

He was monitoring Bulma so closely that his ki flared when hers did. He refocused on the house, realizing she was in the bathroom. Her ki wasn't that of pleasurable release, but of shock. Seeing that she had the right idea, he stripped off his shorts and dove into the pool. He concentrated on swimming with slow even strokes from one end of the pool to the other in an endless stream of laps.

Hours later, he was still sitting by the pool. His raging hard-on long since tamed by his swim. He was roused from his dark contemplation by a dim light switching on in the eating area. From his vantage point on the patio he could see through the large plate glass window, straight into the kitchen. Bulma's profile was illuminated by the refrigerator light. She was basking in the cool air from both the fridge and the freezer, giving Vegeta an unabashed view of the entire length of her body.

Vegeta nearly choked. Her blue hair was gathered into a messy bun, leaving silky tendrils to trail down her back and over her breasts. He didn't know what she was wearing, but it was clearly indecent. Her well-worn pale pink tank was so short that he could see the undersides of her high rounded breasts. Her layered ruffled panties hugged her ass ending just above the curve of her butt cheeks. Everything about her screamed, “Fuck me, now.”

He watched with rapt attention as she selected a sliver of ice from the tray and traced it along her lips, the tip of her tongue peaking out for a taste. Lazily, she smoothed the ice across her nape, leaving a trail of quickly evaporating water. She slid it over her pulse, resting for a few moments at the hollow of her throat. As she drew it away, the pooled water sparkled like topaz in the yellow light.

Vegeta inhaled, unconsciously holding his breath as she trailed the dwindling sliver of ice across her chest and over her paper thin tank. The cold air hardened her nipples visibly under her shirt. Slowly she encircled each nipple with the ice, wetting the material to intensify the cold. She dropped her head back as she did so, thrusting her pert breasts closer to the source of her pleasure.

Vegeta gripped his renewed erection through his shorts. The woman clearly was desperate to get laid, and who was he to say no to that? After all, wasn't he one of the `good guys' now? It was practically his civic duty to assist her in her time of need. Need, he was painfully aware was growing in him as well.

Her nipples wet and turgid, Bulma slicked the ice further drown, sighing when it dissipated entirely while rimming her belly button. Undaunted, she slid her fingers lower until they brushed the tops of her panties.

Abruptly, there was a bracing wall of heat behind her. Her nape prickled with awareness, and her wetted lips parted in surprise. She tried to draw her hand away, but it became trapped under a much larger male palm. Her other hand was prone at her side, until fingers entwined with hers and drew it up high on her midriff. Vegeta leaned into her and she could feel his breath caressing the pulse of her throat, his bone hard erection jutting at the under curve of her buttocks.

“Show me what you were going to do,” Vegeta demanded softly in her ear. Her entire body drew itself taunt, as if it was suddenly and irrevocably engaged in a battle between rationality and pure, perfect lust.

Ashamed, she shook her head, centering her gaze on a bag of frozen peas. She had time to reflect on her behavior earlier and she was appalled. She was a strong, confident woman, but her mother raised her to be a lady. She shouldn't have said those things to Vegeta. She shouldn't have been so aggressive. What had he called her? Foul, vulgar, perverted? How humiliating.

Vegeta rumbled with disappointment behind her, the sound twining around her in sinuous threads that urged her to just a little bit naughty. Maybe a little vulgar too.

“I could have kept watching from the window and you would have been none the wiser.” He moved their hands up until their fingertips brushed the under curve of her breasts, her half top doing nothing to prevent their progress.

“You're not a perv.” Bulma clenched her thighs as she thought about what Vegeta had seen, what he had almost seen.

“True, but that doesn't mean I don't want to see.” He delved his fingers between hers, splaying them beneath her breasts. His fingers fit perfectly in the vee of hers, his roughened fingertips hot against silken skin. “That I don't want to participate,” he whispered in the pink shell of her ear.

Without even a feeble stab at resistance she let him glide their hands under her shirt until her full, aching breast was cupped in the palm of her hand. Her nipple was hard from the cold and she couldn't resist the urge to pinch it between her thumb and forefinger. She gasped at the shaft of pleasure that ran through her. Unconsciously, she rocked her hips forward.

“Yes, show me more,” Vegeta breathed as he ran his tongue along the salty line of her neck. The subtle pressure of his hand urged her to massage her breast, playing with her nipple until it ached.

She was languid with pleasure and he was easily able to coax her other hand beneath her panties, forming up with her exactly so his fore and middle fingers aligned with hers. He slid her fingers between her lips, slicking over her swollen clit. It was her fingers on her flesh, but it was Vegeta guiding her, drawing her hand in a slow, lazy circle that made her dizzy with excitement. She leaned into him, needing his support as the hungry pressure grew in her lower belly.

“Are you going to come for me?” Vegeta asked roughly, grinding his erection into her buttocks.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

Her eyes rolled back as she cradled her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Her climax was sudden and almost unexpected in its intensity. It starburst behind her lids, making her reel at the bright, sharp, satisfying sensation that shivered through her entire body. She allowed it to roll over her, drinking it in before it receded like the ocean tide.

She reclined against Vegeta, letting the world resurface around her. She could hear the harsh panting of her breath, but Vegeta made no sound. She wouldn't have even known he was breathing if it wasn't for the excited rise and fall of his chest beneath her.

“It wasn't enough, was it?”

Bulma stilled, analyzing his words. Her orgasm had been intense, so much so because of Vegeta's presence, but it didn't satisfy her ultimate craving.

“No,” she murmured. What was it about this man that made her bold one moment, then shy the next? His overwhelming masculinity made her feel feminine in a way she never experienced before. She always knew she was a beautiful, independent woman, but before Vegeta she hadn't felt the urge to let her tight reigned mastery slip away. She never had the confidence that someone would be there to steady her when things began to spiral out of control.

“Hmm, what to do?”

Vegeta nuzzled the tender hollow beneath her ear, urging her to tilt her head to the side in surrender. She wiggled against him, feeling his straining cock and smiled. He may have momentarily gained the upper hand on her, but she knew a sure fire way to put him in his place, that place being right in the palm of her small, womanly hand. She untangled herself from his hold and retrieved a crescent sliver of ice. She placed it between her lips before twisting around to twine her arms around Vegeta's neck. With coy grin she offered up the ice that was protruding from between her lips. Vegeta cocked a dark brow, prompting her to lean forward and trace the edge along the seam of his mouth. With lethal quickness he sucked it into his mouth and bit off half. Bulma reeled back, pouting around what was left of her ice.

“Jerk.”

He merely smiled and ground his prize between his molars with a loud crunch. Bulma sniffed with disdain, sucking on her piece. She unwound herself from Vegeta, taking a half-step back so she could observe the glorious physique she so desired. She ran her hands down his body, her fingertips dancing along the ridges of his abs and into the hollows of his hip bones. Slowly she knelt at his feet, smiling coyly at his arrogant smirk. Let him think he was the master. She knew who would be the slave soon enough. With anticipation she tucked her fingers under the waistband of his shorts and drew them down. She inhaled at the sight.

“Now that is what I call a royal cock, My Prince.” She breathed in appreciation.

Bulma wasn't above a little ego stoking when called for, but this wasn't the case. She didn't get around too much, but at twenty-eight she had seen her fair share of penises. Her off and on relationship with Yamcha had seen to that. However, it wasn't until that moment that she realized how disappointed she had been in the past. Human males had an over inflated sense of how big their dicks were, which was only exacerbated by strings of girlfriends who praised them because they either didn't know better or they wanted to preserve their lover's self confidence.

Vegeta smirked at her compliment. He didn't suffer from such self inflation. His arrogance was one hundred percent deserved.

Bulma had always preferred width over length. Circumference was where the sensation was at. With Vegeta she didn't have to go without. He was satisfyingly thick and long, with such a juicy, plump crown that it made her lick her lips in anticipation.

She hadn't been lying when she said she liked giving blow jobs. A lot of women she spoke with didn't. They took the word `job' a little too seriously, allowing it to feel demeaning. Not Bulma. She thrived on the heady sense of empowerment blow jobs gave her. She may be on her knees in submission, but she called all the shots. She decided how long it lasted, how deep he could go and how much pleasure or punishment he received.

Every response of a man's body told her how much he liked the sensation of her mouth on him, from the way his breath quickened, to how his thighs clenched under her palms, and how his hands fisted at his sides. Her favorite was when they dropped their heads back until she could see the white tendons of strain along their necks. If they moaned, she about came.

But that wasn't the best part. Her real power over them was her right to say, “Enough,” to draw away and leave them painfully hard and achingly needy. At that moment she knew that every nuance of their being was trained on her. Their need to have her overrode any sense of rationality. They had to have her, and only her. She was their Goddess in every sense of the word. The center of their universe. It was the kind of ultimate power that made her feel invincible.

She wrapped her hand around Vegeta's cock, completely satisfied when her fingers couldn't touch her thumb. She looked up, almost startled at the way his dark eyes seemed to pin her to the floor. His look was so intense that it made the air around them feel hot and heavy, even with the open fridge at her back.

To lighten the mood, she cast him a mischievous grin that would make any man nervous. She swished her tongue, clacking the ice against her teeth to remind him how cold her mouth was going to be.

He cocked a brow, his full lips twitching. “Remember, woman, what goes around, comes around.”

She shrugged fatalistically, and pouted her lips as if she was getting ready to receive a chaste kiss. She leaned forward pressing her closed mouth to the tip of his cock until her lips plumped around him. He nudged his hips forward, but he was met with a wall of teeth. She teased him with her lips, and quick, sly flicks of her tongue.

“Woman.”

The warning danced over her sensitive skin, and she looked up at him from beneath a veil of dark blue lashes. She unclenched her teeth, but kept her lips compressed, sucking him slowly into her cold mouth. The fit was tight, and she didn't draw the entirety of his swollen crown inside, but he would still feel the cold. She was rewarded for her devilishness by the shocked inhalation of breath from Vegeta. She swirled her tongue over his tip in a deliberate tease before withdrawing.

Vegeta's hand came down hard on the top of the refrigerator door, nearly tearing it from the hinge. Her lips smiled around him as she drew him in and receded, imitating the excruciatingly tight and intensely wonderful sensation of virgin sex.

Vegeta rumbled above her. “You're playing a dangerous game, woman.”

Bulma withdrew, sliding her tongue over him in false apology.

“The best things in life have to be earned with patience and hard work.” As she spoke she made sure her breath feathered over his wet tip. She lathered more of the same attention on him, but soon he tired of her games. He tangled his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back, widening her jaw. He thrust, but an infuriated Bulma retaliated by trapping him tight against the rigid roof of her mouth with the flat of her tongue. Thrusting forward would not only mean scrapping his length over her teeth, but it would hurt her as well, and she knew like she knew the sun would rise in the morning that he had more self control than that.

When he stilled, Bulma knew she had regained power. She shook his fist from her hair with a discontented chuffing, rearranging herself comfortably on the floor. She released his trapped cock, caressing his length with her tongue. She worked him gently, using her tongue and loose fist in concert. He bucked against her, but she held back, teasing him with the depths of her throat.

“Bulma.”

The single word was strained, frustration and need leaving their mark on the impossibly strong man. She loosened her jaw, sliding her tongue along the underside of his cock in welcome. He surged forward until he touched the back of her throat. Breathing evenly, she tightened around him like a hot, silken glove, and moaned. A long drawn out sound deep from within her chest, that reverberated up his hard length and into his balls. She glanced up in awe as he threw his head back, his entire body taunt and straining, his tanned skin ruddy and shined with sweat in the dim light. He threaded his fingers through her hair, and she curled back ready to reprimand him with teeth if he tried to force himself deeper, but instead he tugged her upright. She gasped as he slid out of her mouth. She was shocked. No man had ever interrupted her before. Men always tried to push it further, make it deeper, forgetting about her completely as the need to come overrode their senses. It was always her that held the power to stop them. To make them beg for her.

He swept her up against her chest, revealing her vulnerability compared to him. His mouth descended on hers and the dominance of his kiss made her feel submissive possibly for the first time ever. The room tilted and he was laying her back on the kitchen table, the sturdy butcher block top slightly rough against her skin.

He towered over her, and she had to suppress the urge to shrink herself. He smiled and between his lips she saw the diamond glimmer of ice. She took a shuddering breath as he leaned over, and very slowly drew her shirt up. It floated over her breasts until they were bared, plump and white with hard, rosy tips that begged to be sucked. Her mouth parted, her breath coming fast as he palmed her breasts, pushing them up and together. With a true intent towards wickedness, he held the ice in his teeth and rimmed her nipples, making them hard, wet and cold. He flicked his thumbs over the tightened nubs, and she hissed through her teeth. He sucked in his ice, storing it in his cheek so he was free to lap up the moisture left behind on her skin. She arched into him, begging with her body, but he wasn't about to stop with the torture. He lips clasped over one pert nipple, lathering it to near oversensitivity, before biting down on the semi-numb flesh. She started and moaned, digging her fingers into his hair to pull him away. Undaunted, he moved to her other breast, teasing it into painful awareness before nipping it into submission.

She sighed with a mixture of relief and tension as he moved lower, leaving silver trails of water in his wake. The ice burned where it touched, from the pool of her belly button to the hollow of her hip.

Vegeta dragged down her panties, barely clearing her ankles, before he was spreading her thighs to make room for him. She felt the burning cold kiss of ice on her inner thigh and she tensed.

“No.”

She tugged on his hair, but he was unmoved.

“Payback is a bastard,” he murmured against her skin, chuckling softly. He parted her nether lips with his thumbs, lulling her with his gentleness, before he seared her clit with the spear of ice. She cried out, her entire body writhing off the table in despair. It was wonderful and terrible all at once. He bathed her in ice until her pussy was nearly numb. The agony of her need was pulsing, dulled and buried beneath the cold, the excitement of it making her pant.

Then the ice was gone and his tongue was pressed against her clit, only slightly warmer, but so much nicer. With every lap the numbness was washed away and desire was revealed, more intense that she had ever felt. She bucked against this mouth, feeling simultaneously wonderful and empty inside.

“Please,” she begged shamelessly.

With strength that made her breathless, he slid her to the edge of the table. One leg was gathered in the crook of his arm, and the other foot found purchase on the top of a ladder-back chair. She watched with hooded eyes as he stroked himself from root to tip, before angling the crown of his cock towards her. She felt the plumpness of him as he parted her lips, sliding along her slick slit in a deliberate tease before pressing against her entrance. He paused there, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. She groaned in frustration and he pushed a little deeper, barely penetrating before withdrawing.

“Vegeta.”

“Shush, woman. I can't pretend I'm fucking that pretty little mouth of yours if you're talking.”

Bulma levered her head off the table to glare at him, her mouth parted in shock and tormenting need.

“Asshole!”

Vegeta cocked his head to the side, and Bulma's breath caught in her chest at his purely impish look.

“What, here?” he asked silkily, nudging her anis. “I bet it's even tighter than your mouth.”

Her eyes widened, and she tried to scramble back, but he held her securely. “No, I've never!”

He laughed, and Bulma stilled at the magnificent sound. She thought maybe the stars would fall from the sky before she would ever hear such a sound again. Not that it wouldn't be worth all the millions in her bank account to have those stars fall while listening to him laugh.

“Here, then.”

He thrust forcefully into her pussy. She arched in relief, before mewling in discontent. Only the crown of his penis filled her. She could feel the boney ridge of his knuckles where his hand was wrapped around his cock to prevent himself from thrusting deeper. He rocked inside her, teasing her with a small portion of what he could offer.

“Damn it, Vegeta, fuck me!” she screamed from between clenched teeth, the meaty side of her fist thwacking against the table top.

“I am,” he replied coolly. He flicked his thumb over her sensitive clit, and she nearly flew apart. It was the signal he was waiting for. He sank to the hilt, pausing for endless heartbeats before withdrawing with painful slowness. Again and again, he rammed into her, pausing and withdrawing, driving her mad with every deliberate stroke, leaving her at the very cusp of something wonderful before chasing it away, making her want to cry with the unachieved pleasure of it.

She curled her free leg around his hips in an attempt to draw him closer, but he was so much stronger than her, more controlled. Tears of frustration formed at the corner of her eyes and she mewled like something that was lost and alone.

He wedged himself tight in her, freeing her hooked leg, so he could brace both his elbows on either side of her narrow body. She reacted on instinct, wrapping her leg around him to lock her ankles in a feminine trap, her small hands curling over his flexed biceps. He was close enough to breathe in, a hot, salty male scent, mixed with suppressed thunderstorms of passion. His eyes were darker than the shadows of the room, but lit with a sinister fire that should have shaken her to the core with fear, not with the intense desire that burned in every nuance of her body.

His thumb slid over the pale curve of her cheek, wiping a tear away. Something staggering clenched in the center of her chest and she damned herself for the stupidity of it. This was itch scratching, nothing more. Pure animal fucking, not love-making. Not even sex. Definitely not something to get mushy over.

“What is it that you want, woman?”

“You.”

The word was out before she had even given it permission to exist much less leave her mouth. But the simplicity of it resonated inside her. She knew it was true on all its levels.

A range of emotions filtered through Vegeta's dark eyes. Many of which were too abrupt for her to recognize except for the final one; determination.

“This is all you will ever have.”

His voice was rough with ice, making the warmth inside her crack. She broke eye contact, arching her body into his.

“Then give it to me,” she demanded with the petulance of an unsatisfied woman.

He growled, the eroticism of it triggering her entire being to clench around him. He gathered her ample ass in his palms, thrusting into her with enough force that her tits bounced and the heavy table scrapped across the floor. He fucked her with relentlessness, butting the table against the wall as she arched, moaned, and begged beneath him.

The orgasm that burst upon her was so intense that it threatened to burn her body away and leave behind nothing more than smoldering ash. Drowned in sensation, Bulma could hear her rough cries; feel the pounding of Vegeta's flesh into hers. The sharpest sensation was the individual press of his fingers, bruising her cheeks. He roared with release, and dogs howled in the distance.

She slowly filtered back to reality as he rocked forward, slapping his palms against the table. She could feel every inch of Vegeta's flesh pressed into her in an unbreakable seal. She slid her palms up Vegeta's sweat-slicked arms, unaware of the catlike smirk curving on her lips.

“When do we get to do that again?” She was breathless, eager, and oh so satisfied. She feared she might not be able to walk for a week.

Vegeta's dazed eyes refocused on her and she was caught by the depth of them. His lips curled into what might have been a smile, but it didn't comfort her in the least. He pulled out of her, and she groaned at the painful loss. Before she could regroup, she was flung over his shoulder, landing with a heavy “oomph.”

“Vegeta.” She squealed, slapping the wide expanse of his back with her palm. She pretended to be outraged, but she was secretly pleased to be carted off as his caveman's prize, presumably straight to his bed. She frowned as he walked out the backdoor and onto the patio.

Suddenly she was flying, and the world flipped around as she landed in the pool. She sputtered to the surface, whipping her hair out of her eyes to glare daggers at the arrogant man towering over her.
“It will be two years and another trip to hell, before that happens again,” he stated with surety that made her grind her teeth.

He turned on his heel, his steel-toned butt cheeks clenching as he walked back into the house. Bulma watched him go, her eyes narrowed with predatory intensity.

“We'll see about that, My Prince,” she purred before pushing away from the wall for a lazy late night swim, her brilliant mind already plotting her next move.