Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kiss of a Saiyan ❯ Kiss of a Saiyan ( One-Shot )

Disclaimer: If DBZ was mine, well, it probably wouldn't be suitable for children.

 

A/N: This is one of the first pieces I wrote months ago after having surrendered to a very realistic fantasy.

 

 

Kiss of a Saiyan

 

 

“My skin!”

 

 

Bulma grimaced as she glanced worriedly at the mirror before her on one of the roomier bathrooms in the Capsule Corp's second floor. Her ivory skin that always felt silky to the touch now felt a bit dried out and in desperate need of moisturizer. She could certainly not settle for anything other than perfection and perfection to her was nothing less than petal skin that was velvet to the touch.

 

 

Unfortunately the sun on the outskirts of the capital hadn't settled too well on her ivory features. It had been a long tiresome day spent outdoors watching Yamcha train. She had certainly expected it to turn out a lot more pleasantly, having only agreed to the hard endeavor of accompanying him on his training spree with the underhanded intention of eventually turning the day into a picnic and enjoying at least half the day lounging comfortably next to her always driven boyfriend. It definitely didn't go her way.

 

 

They left very early in the morning. She carried whatever wonders she conceived in her always hyperactive mind in order to create a spectacular day on the countryside; all in conveniently tucked away capsules. Yamcha was supposed to have been cheerfully surprised after she de-capsulated the tempting arrangement of food and refreshments. She would then demand he take a break and join her, slowly making her moves to convince him into taking the rest of the day off. She genuinely thought today would be the perfect opportunity to rekindle some normalcy between him and her. Everybody needs a break every now and then, even with a potentially devastating enemy in the near future - she had eagerly thought. A girl has got to have some fun. She needed at least part of her boyfriend back, for at least a while, and she had planned to compensate for the lost the time with a heated session of love-making on the fields.

 

 

After much nail polishing on Bulma's part, as she sat on the grass and one hundred seventeen combs to her now shinier than ever hair, the time to deploy the plan had come. Yamcha dove into the food avidly. He was rather quick to eat all she brought along; exchanging a few comments on how smart she had been to think ahead, having provided enough assortments to replenish his energy. He then turned to asking her what she thought about his various poses, flips, ki blasts and other snazzy new moves he had added to his fighting repertoire. He did use the entire landscape within sight to develop quit a strenuous workout.

 

 

Bulma had sighed heavily and frowned. She really hadn't been in the mood to discuss anything remotely related to his actual training at that point. The android threat had already drained a lot of her psychologically and she was more than ready to put it to a rest for at least a day. Yamcha, on the other hand, only seemed to get more and more worked up about it as time went by. His training had almost become obsessive and compulsive, consuming his mind and spirit and bordering on insane according to her ever so accurate observation. He hardly lent much attention to her anymore, not nearly as much as he used to anyway. It was actually funny how everyday at Capsule Corp now seemed to be about Vegeta locked up pushing himself to the limits on the GR and Yamcha doing the same somewhere else within the premises. Anytime they came within eye contact they looked at each other briefly, Vegeta with utter disdain, Yamcha with what seemed to be an air of competitiveness.

 

 

Bulma opened the tap and wet her face. The sun hadn't beat down too harshly but she had spent a little too much time just sitting there listening to Yamcha drain all the energy he had regained after eating by doing some more training. She had resorted to speaking to one of her friends on the phone. After hanging up and seeing Yamcha up in the air throwing a special move into the nearest mountainside, she decided to call Chichi. The black-haired fast talking girl resorted to complaining about how much time Piccolo and Goku spent outside training with Gohan. At least her jabbering made her feel a little better in that she wasn't the only one suffering a bit of neglect. A bit or a lot. Some of that hot frustration was already dangerously penting up between her thighs, making her a little uneasy every time she walked around the house, often catching the masculine musky scent of a lingering Saiyan. But she knew better than to let that turn her into a raving madwoman. Bulma Briefs would not let the flames of primal wanton consume her like some randy little slut, no matter how many times she had secretly thought about tasting those Saiyan lips, or how many times she had wondered how his hands would feel over her milky body. She had an idea they would be a little calloused, and hot…burning hot to her naked skin, infused with the same intense aura that hovered about him all the time. His lips were probably commandeering but soft and their shape and form, so perfectly drawn over his handsome alien face, probably fit perfectly between her rubi lips.

 

 

She shook her head violently, sighed and frowned, bracing her hands against the sink. The heat of the sun must have fried a few of her most important neurons off. This was not the path she wanted to drift towards.

 

 

Determined to fade the rest of the frustrating day out of her mind, she stripped off her clothes, throwing them into the bin and headed for the jaccuzzi on the far side of the room. She had already laid everything ready for a much needed warm bath. She felt sorry there hadn't been much of Yamcha to enjoy today but her hopes surely didn't die. It's not as if she was selfish and spoiled, he just needed to understand she was too young and delicate to just wither away in total solitude. She immersed herself in the soothing soapiness of the water, staring into space and lying back comfortably.

 

 

Had he finally emerged from the GR?

 

 

She winced. This was not the right time to concern herself with Vegeta. She needed to relax. Having these recurrent thoughts was her mother's fault. She kept asking where he was all the time. “Honey, he must be hungry”. “That handsome Vegeta has been at it for 4 days straight; I wonder when he'll come by and see us”, “My, he certainly appears to have loads of stamina, don't you think dear?”.

 

 

Bulma, tried to erase her mother's high-pitched, although well intended comments off her head. But had he? It really had been 4 days of straight training last time she checked. And now it had been 5 straight minutes of thinking about this and not relaxing. After much effort on her part and loads of clenching her eyes to force the issue off her mind, her body finally started feeling a lot lighter and sleep swept her over into oblivion.

 

 

 

Bulma flinched when she heard the door open. After a second of uncertainty as to where she was, she quickly regained her senses. Her eyes widened in panic, peering intently from behind the half drawn curtain next to the tub. A pang bounced inside her belly. Vegeta was standing across the wide room, at the other side of the bathroom right in front of the mirror. She couldn't really see his face from her angle but he seemed to be studying the bruises on his face. His entire body seemed pretty beat up and stained with blood all across his back. What seemed to be traces of laser blasts marked his biceps and forearms, the chorded tanned muscles of his body glistening with sweat. After a few moments of scrutiny he began to unfold the bandages he carried on an arm, his subtle grunt of pain echoing across the room.

 

 

She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. She had been reckless enough to not lock the door! She hadn't expected anyone roaming around the second floor at this hour. He had been away for so long she didn't think he'd reappear tonight anyway. What could she do now?! Would he realize she was there and drag her out? Oh the embarrassment. Maybe he'd just figure her tiny ki emission was some pet lounging around in the room or her mother sleeping on the adjourning quarter. She was on the far side of the room, and it was quiet a big one after all. She brought her knees to her chest and held them tight with her arms, curling up as carefully as possible and struggling to put her mind at ease.

 

 

Vegeta moved and looked at his entire side on the mirror, flexing his bulging bicep as to check on its condition. He winced but kept at it, on and on, making the tantalizing skin glide over his steel muscles. She noticed everything about his body language indicated deep exhaustion, the wincing on his face and the drowsy eyes.

 

 

Bulma nearly choked on her saliva the minute he swiftly turned to taking off the tight pants he used to train, gracing the mirror with his nudity, lean muscle under toasted dark golden skin. Her eyes bulged and her heart skipped a bit, completely enthralled by the vision of manly perfection that melted through her pupils, exuding virility, exploding with a sense of power and vitality even under his tiredness. He obviously intended to shower and a little curse slipped through her lips before she managed to clasp her hand firmly over them. Bulma quickly turned her face and blushed not believing her luck. Oh shit! Why did these things have to happen to her? What perfect ending to the day really, son of a …..!.

 

 

She stopped lamenting her luck enough to open an eye, striving to see what he was up to now. She tried to avoid lingering too much on his strong muscularity and chiseled features, although to her surprise, she found it a challenging task to not let go and indulge on it. There was no point in denying the fact that he did, well… posses more than enough to look at and dwell on. He stood there almost frozen, his side turned in her direction, rewarding her with a full view of his naked profile. He was a lean, regal bronze statue, hardened under the fire of battle and tempered to acute perfection, enough to stare at for endless hours and not get tired of ever. Bulma swallowed when she felt her throat become as dry and stiff as a piece of cardboard.

 

 

Vegeta lifted his face slightly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. A million curses run through Bulma's head. She could only plead to Kami that he didn't notice her presence, there curled into a ball, pressed against the side of the tub and breast deep in the sudsy water, hiding behind the curtain. Please, head to the shower, head to the shower!!!! Her heart was beating so loudly she could have sworn he was actually able to hear it all the way from across the room. This couldn't be happening, oh for Kami's sake! I don't exist; I am ethereal as a fluff of feathers. No, Vegeta no!!!! She clenched her eyes shut as hard as possible and swore to Kami-sama she'd at least try to be a good girl if he only saved her from this awful predicament.

 

 

Thankfully, after a grueling second of uncertainty, he started walking toward the shower and slid the doors, putting her mind at ease. She let out a deep sigh with enough care so that it didn't make any sort of sound. She then held her breath, waiting for the moment he turned on the shower and she finally got her window of opportunity to escape from this gut wrenching nightmare. When the water started running she sighed in relief and began getting up carefully, water dripping of her naked porcelain thighs. Kami had been rather graceful to grant her this chance to get out of the ill-conceived situation. She glanced around fretfully looking for a towel big enough to cover her nakedness, but all she could find was a rather small one that hung to just below her buttocks after she adeptly wrapped it around her bulging and tender breasts. Her semidried blue tresses running down her shoulders, she tiptoed towards the door at the other side of the room, next to where the sink was, her mind concentrating on sneaking out. She and Vegeta naked on the same room just wasn't the thing she needed now when Bulma Briefs was just not at her most composed. Nevertheless, she couldn't keep herself from eyeing the shower on the way out. She bit her lower lip and surrendered to the sight before her as she glanced unabashedly at the silhouette behind the translucent glass doors.

 

 

He stood there, his back to her, still somewhat visible behind the blur of the water and the whipped glass. It was more than enough to make her agape, the shape of his wide shoulders tapering down to an exquisite tight waist which in turn segued unto lean hard muscled thighs, bulging with power. His dark hair flattened over his back as he let the warmth of the water pour down his bronze skin, hugging it, licking at his every crook and crevice, gliding along the planes of his chest and the bulge of his firm butt. Each trail of water wound around his body in a never ending caress, riding down and sliding between his perfectly molded six pack. The streams wrapped around his back and snuck through his parted legs to finally drop down to the floor in an orgasmic sound of splashing. She literally drooled. Oh my f…. God, who wouldn't want to be a droplet of that water...

 

 

Bulma flinched and slapped herself mentally. This isn't the time to be doing this, Briefs! She walked faster towards the door and opened it as silently as she could manage given her shivery hand. The doorknob was covered in moisture from the hazy mist already beginning to fill the place, but she held it determinately. Fortunately, the door didn't make any noise as she opened it and closed it behind her, finally feeling the breeze of the hall cool down her burning skin. She pressed herself against the door and sighed in heavy relief. Luck seemed to be on her side after all.

 

 

“Bulma?” Her mother stood a few steps down the hall looking at her with curious eyes.

 

 

“Mo…Momma?” Bulma's eyes widened comically and she inadvertently went pale too. “Momma, what the hell are you doing here?” She smiled at her shakily, suddenly consumed by a terrible feeling of dread.

 

 

“Well, dear, I was taking a few midnight snacks to your father who's been working late on a project downstairs.” Bulma glanced at the tray she was carrying and her mother cocked her head to the side inquisitorially. “Is something wrong Bulma-chan? You are as pale as a frog's belly”

 

 

“Wrong…!?” She chuckled “Why would there be anything wrong? I was just taking a bath and thinking about going to bed. Bathing helps me sleep better” Bulma grinned fretfully and her eyes squinted pretending nonchalance. However in an instant, she regained her deer caught under the headlights look of utter panic and stared at her mother, trying to read her expression.

 

 

Mrs. Briefs smiled and tilted her head to one side yet again. “Oh yes? And why is the shower running then?” she chirped.

 

 

“The, err, shower?” Bulma couldn't help the half breathed giggling that rose to her throat in an effort to cover her fear. “Oh, the shower, yes. Momma you are so right. I was dumb enough to not turn the shower off! Haha, um…”

 

 

Her mom looked puzzled.

 

 

“…which I will do at this very moment…right…now…” Shower? Bath? Nothing made sense now. Crap. Bulma frantically turned the doorknob and opened the door behind her. She waited a fraction of a second to see if her mother would move, but seeing that she didn't, she decided to hurry inside, knowing Vegeta could turn the damn thing off any minute thus getting her into unnecessary trouble. “Goodnight momma!” She was careful to whisper those last words still employing an excessively excited tone.

 

 

She shut the door while peeking out for as long as she possibly could in the process. Her parents slept right next door, making this an even more complicated scenario. Shit, shit, shit! A few moments passed while Bulma struggled to settle the agitation in her head. What could she do know? Wait here like a stupid little kid caught in a perfectly awkward situation as the Saiyan Prince strode out of the shower in his perfectly glorious body? How could she possibly have winded up in such an embarrassing position, in her own house!

 

 

Her stomach jolted as Vegeta turned off the shower. She turned around and held unto the towel with a fierce determination, knowing that she could easily get herself out of any mess if she got her mind to it. This just couldn't be any different. Briefs, you're supposed to be a genius, work your magic here, Goddammit!

 

 

He pulled the towel that was thrown over the glass doors and after wrapping it over his narrow waist, he flung the doors open. When he directed his pupils to look at her, eyes still glittering intently even after whatever strain he had subjected himself to in the past few days, her heart sank. The ever so wild mane of black hair was tousled from the moisture that weighed down the pointy spikes slightly, but they still sprang proudly, crowning his dark face.

 

 

She felt her knees melt into a puddle. Tiny sparkling drops of water trailed down the muscles of his pectorals grazing his tight abdomen until they reached the towel. He was a god, she was sure, right that moment losing her sanity to visions of rippling muscle flexing under warm covers, bodies hazy with sweat and steam. Her womb protested greedily, sending shivers up her spine and shocks of desire that curled tightly inside her stomach.

 

 

Bulma resolved to not let her primal instincts get the best of her and frowned, rigid as a statue, legs together firmly. After a second, Vegeta raised an eyebrow and snickered. The gesture got her blood boiling.

 

 

“So you haven't managed to leave yet. I thought I'd given you more than enough time, human.”

 

 

He had felt her after all. Bulma cringed inside.

 

 

He stepped away from the shower sporting a dark scowl. Only Vegeta could look so debonair in nothing but a towel, she thought. He then raised his ki just enough to almost instantly dry most of the moisture off his hair and skin, shaking his spiky mane like a wild animal coming out of a spring in the woods. She noticed dumbstruck how he moved with the grace of a beautiful unearthly creature, with a raw allure that had surely made hordes of women tremble in desire, a wanton beast, out of God knew what planet in the middle of nowhere. The warm wave of energy from his ki reached her body and softly grazed her already too sensitive skin.

 

 

Bulma cleared her throat and strived to betray nothing of her impudence. “Yes, well I would have liked to, but I obviously haven't managed to exit the room, as you can very well see. My parents are still up, walking about and I can't leave” She turned her face, closing her eyes disdainfully. Her round, soft cheeks burnt with lustful crimson.

 

 

“Your weakling parents around? So? Why don't you just leave woman. I couldn't care less. You can go intrude on someone else's private matters and stop intruding on mine” His voice was conceited, arrogant as a trademark of his character, not even minding her one single look as he stared into the mirror. What a vain little jerk, I can't believe this!

 

 

He looked like he was about to dispose of the towel. Thankfully he looked at her first, from the corner of his eye, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips and an eyebrow cocked up proudly.

 

 

She jumped at the notion of him going into stark nudity before her eyes. “Wait! What are you doing? You have to let me get out first!” She blushed violently and her eyes expanded comically, staring at his hand in sheer panic.

 

 

He huffed. “Don't be stupid, I have no intention of…” He trailed off as his cheeks turned a rather bright shade of red as well. “Get out of here” He spat, turning his gaze back to the mirror and letting a deep frown sink into his delicate features.

 

 

Bulma's lips quivered but she thought fast, moving to press her ear to the door in the hopes of hearing nothing but silence at the other side. Unfortunately, she managed to pick up the light conversation going on between her parents somewhere down the hall. She could have sworn she heard the words “Bulma” and “weird” being uttered.

 

 

“I can't” She stated flatly turning back to look at him. She tightened her lips and balled her hands into fists. She surely couldn't leave this minute; she couldn't stumble upon her parents knowing a long row of questions would ensue.

 

 

“Then I suggest you turn around this minute. I don't intend on letting you waste my time” He declared while lifting the eyebrow in her direction. Bulma wasn't quick enough to divert her eyes. She stood there, frozen as a statue as his hand discarded the towel in one graceful movement. She groaned, squinted and turned around to face the door. Vegeta frowned angrily, fidgeting with the fresh clothes he had brought along to wear after cleaning himself up. His moves almost disguised the tension in his muscles as he put a new pair of training shorts on.

 

 

“What is the problem with you? Don't aliens have a notion of civility? Why can't you be more patient, I'm sure they will go to bed in a second! My mother was wearing her gown. Oy this is not good, if my momma…if my pappa sees you coming out before me!” Her skin started to burn “What would they say? Oh my god, I don't know about Saiya-jins or about the life you led under that horrible Frieza monster and his minions, but I am a delicate woman. I am not some sort of monstrous alien soldier you just stumble across in a filthy public bathroom! You have to help me out here….!

 

 

There was a vacant silence when Vegeta didn't bother replying to her laborious ranting. Yamcha would've jumped right into the wagon, but this man just didn't have an ounce of consideration anywhere in his decadently virile body. What, did he think he was way up above her or something? The snooty bastard? Well, she'd be damned! This was Bulma Fucking Briefs, not some two bit whore from some backwater planet, which was all he was probably accustomed to dealing with.

 

 

Just when she was about to turn around and give him a second piece of her mind his hand reached over to hold the doorknob right beside her. She jumped a little turning to face him. Luckily he was already dressed in the tight fitting training shorts. She couldn't avoid feeling the subtle scent of crisp masculine clarity he emanated as she stared into his unmoving face. Bulma held unto her flimsy towel as fiercely as possible.

 

 

“Vegeta!” She quietly screeched, blocking his way. She pressed her back against the muscles in his arm, the one arm with the hand that now held unto the doorknob. She knew how keen her mother was. Surely she had picked up on Bulma not leaving the bathroom yet and under no circumstances could they see him leave before her. It would take an awful lot of explaining to put the matter to rest and ease her mother's never-ending questioning. Her father would probably avoid the tricky issue altogether but momma…she'd just never hear the end of it.

 

 

Vegeta glowered at her, visibly disturbed at her insolence. After a second of uncertainty he decided to hold unto the doorknob possessively, a threatening scowl setting on his features. In an infinite act of grace he was going to treat the vulgar woman to a second chance. “What the hell are you so nervous about? Humans are the most annoying creatures I have met, even more annoying than the vast lot that were annoying enough to kill.” He leered at her from under his thick lashes and Bulma's gaze couldn't avoid moving to his lips, so close and so perfectly shaped, not too thick or too slim…over perfect white teeth, like pearls…strong and beautiful to any woman's eyes.

 

 

Her muscles tightened.

 

 

“Annoying enough to kill huh? In that case you are getting out of here over my dead body”. The resolution in her eyes astounded him. What was this creature? The most intriguing one by far he'd ever encountered in his countless trips. She knew perfectly well who he was, had witnessed what he, the great Prince Vegeta, was capable of, and still…

 

 

“You defy me” He said in a flat monotone, his eyes piercing through hers with a lingering menace. She breathed in, making a conscious effort to not turn away from the intensity of his gaze.

 

 

He couldn't quiet recall being in a single situation as wildly nonsensical as the current display of events. He did understand what her concern was; He was quick enough to pick up on the subtle cultural intricacies of this bothersome world. He just couldn't bring himself to care in the least. His body was as sore as possible, close to collapsing. If he didn't get out soon, he probably would. The last four days had pushed him to blacking out in the GR at least three times that he could remember, only to get up again and keep going at it. He had driven himself to a point of having only enough energy to fly back inside the main building in an effort to get cleaned. It was what he needed the most. If not he would have thrown himself on whatever surface he found and succumbed to his exhaustion. Now he almost regret taking the detour.

 

 

Vegeta started to turn the knob but in an instant Bulma let go of her towel and placed a hand firmly over his wrist thanking Kami-sama secretly when the cloth didn't even shift one millimeter. He was startled. She noticed the shock of electricity that crept up her body the minute she touched his firm skin.

 

 

“You surely don't understand do you?” Bulma hissed behind fiery blue eyes. “You can't leave just yet! I can't let you go…huh ?” They both turned towards the door when they heard the voice of Bulma's parents reverberate across the hall. They apparently were walking along the corridor now headed to the kitchen directly opposite the bathroom. Both Bulma and Vegeta turned back to facing each other, a crackling tension igniting the air between them. He suddenly flinched with what looked like complete physical exhaustion, his expression of pain only making his face all the more delightfully exquisite. However, even though he looked weak and strained, Bulma didn't really have much time to feel guilty. “Are you ok?” she muttered.

 

 

“Woman, release my hand” He said coldly but she didn't budge. Instead, she tightened her grip on his wrist in sheer defiance. Vegeta gritted his teeth and turned the knob all the way.

 

 

When she felt his reaction, and upon hearing the distinct chatter of her parents echo again directly at the other side of the door, Bulma squeaked in desperation. She reacted out of pure genius instinct, in the spur of the moment and without an ounce of thought. She lunged forward suddenly, in an unforeseen action that took Vegeta fully by surprise.

 

 

The firmness of her lips was relentless and unyielding as they came crushing against his. The hot pressure of her mouth, shut against his lips catching him completely off guard. She leaned forward resolutely, lifting her head slightly and clenching her eyes as tightly as possible not backing down as if her life depended on it. For that seemingly never-ending moment his entire body went tense, forgetting the lack of rest and energy, turning its entire remaining resources to figuring out what was happening. His eyes were wide open in astonishment and his hand dropped the towel he had been carrying all along, so stunned was he and so utterly perplexed. Bulma felt his breath leave his body completely from out of his nostrils. His lips were tightly shut, but he didn't push away, he just froze, paralyzed from head to toe.

 

 

She pushed whatever notion of reason she had away from her mind. All she could think of was deterring him from turning the damn doorknob. She knew there was no way she could compete with his physical prowess which had left her no other option but to go down this lane. If it took kissing a pissed off Prince to save her cute little hynie, well so be it. She would sacrifice herself by lending in to the feeling of his supple firm lips, the sensation of their fullness squashed under her eager mouth. She would just have to indulge in feeling how they burnt her mouth with their sole touch, the little bulgy bit on his upper lip delicious against her own. Oh well, she supposed she could just deal with the awareness of the heated sensation of his lower lip, tight and ready, almost pulsating against her breath, every little inch of his lips both luscious and mouthwatering. The perfection of their shape issued a tacit promise of being delectable and amazing if they were to wrap around her quivery lips and softly suck at them…

 

 

Slowly but surely, her body began to relax under her torrid thoughts of pleasure. All images or worries about her parents, now escaping out some hidden window inside her brain. She couldn't pinpoint why, but her furtive kiss started to drag her in, intoxicating her and allowing her to release her pressure on his mouth. Her lips took a life of their own and lingered over his scrumptious mouth now exuding a more pleasurable tension. She began to nip lightly and then started sucking softly at his upper lip, a slow feathered moan escaping her throat. God it felt so good, even better than she had always imagined…

 

 

His lips were now relaxed and only slightly parted, allowing her to trace them with the tip of her tongue, very, very slowly, coating them with her sweet breath. She trailed little circles over them and sucked, then trailed her tongue along their length again, and she thought she felt him shiver, his lips still immovable but lending themselves to her exploratory tongue. Her mouth worshipped his, exploring every single millimeter of his lips, moistening them and devouring them like they were made out of the sweetest nectar in the galaxy. He felt his resolve tatter, his tightly wound control begin to sink under the mind numbing pressure to yield, to give in to the tasting of her sweet cherry lips, so plump to the touch, so sugary and tasty… The hand he rested on the doorknob started to relax under hers and his lips spasmed slightly as if trying to decide what to do next. He held his breath a tiny second away of surrendering to pure bliss, of losing himself in her hungry mouth. Right here right now, it was male and female, raw and needy flesh against flesh, eager to plunge into thirst and lust. Yes, Vegeta thought, a mere inch away of loosening his lips completely and letting them drink out of her juicy ones, yes...it seemed like an easy thing to succumb and respond. To kiss…

 

 

Bulma swiftly pulled away, so abruptly she bumped her head against the wall directly behind her and cringed in the pain. She then looked at him, eyes big in expectation, lips slightly swollen. She quickly lifted her hand off his, where it had rested all along as if pulling away from a dangerous animal that could very well eat her alive. Vegeta looked at her, his face blank, his lips still moist and slightly parted, an odd expression of drowsy pleasure hanging in his eyes. Then, right before her, his features started molding slowly into an unusually dark scowl, brows drawn together and eyes like daggers piercing through her own.

 

 

“I…” He shifted his gaze and she thought she saw his cheeks burn. His eyes closed and his teeth gritted.

 

 

He then swung his magnificent onyx gaze back in her direction, allowing them to look into each other for a lingering moment. The tension in the room seemed to mount heavily making her hold her breath in her throat and making him tense the muscles across his body. Neither spoke, still embellished in the sinfully good feeling that the intimate movements had aroused.

 

Only after a while did a door closing somewhere in the vicinity cut sharply through the moment, snapping Bulma back into reality, diffusing the drowsy confusion that had tortured her female body a few moments ago. She shook her thoughts and pressed her ear against the door. There was nothing but silence down the hall. In fact the chattering had moved to the room directly next to the bathroom, signaling her parents had finally retreated for the night and the path was clear for her to leave. Oddly enough that notion didn't quite seem as appealing as it had before and it only made her annoyed inside. She really did not feel like leaving anymore.

 

 

Resolved to not let that seep through to Vegeta's attention, she smiled playfully and shrugged, issuing a wicked smile, “If you hadn't insisted on turning the doorknob, I wouldn't have done…that...”

 

 

He looked at her, a full grown smirk now forming on his lips. Bulma half-expected a flagrant verbal attack but instead he regarded her with nothing but a low grunt. She darted her hand towards the doorknob, star and main witness of what had transgressed in the room, and began to turn it, her dainty hand still quivery from the torturous kiss that he had denied returning. Just when she was about to pull the door open, he held her wrist with the agility of a cat.

 

 

He closed the space between them slowly, but surely, eyes half hooded and lips now parted in a snide smile that spoke of naughtiness and sin.

 

 

“Oh woman...” he whispered against her lips. “I think it's still not safe to leave the room”

 

 

Bulma felt a tremor expand through her throbbing body as she released her hold on the knob. She positioned her lips over his velvety ones and expelled a tiny sigh of wanton, her eyes getting lost in his delicious mouth once again.

 

 

“No…still not safe at all….” She brushed against his smirk and melted inside knowing fully well it would be her turn to experience their heated caress. “…I think we'll just have to do it again…”