Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Moon Baby ❯ Moon Baby ( One-Shot )

Title: Moon Baby

Rating: NC-17 for sexual content

Warnings: This story contains Lemon. Okay, let's face it, the whole thing IS a Lemon.

Author: Shi-Saiyan

E-Mail: videl3402@hotmail.com

Feedback, please

Let's take a blast to the moon, baby,

I sit around wishing you well,

How I'm craving you, yeah!

Every time I'm near you,

I always wanna swallow you down,

I'll be right here if you need me.

In my life, I'll need you here,

Don't as why,

And I'll never disappear!

Why is it every day that I feel the pain?

Let's take a trip to the stars far away,

Where were you when I was down?

Staring into the dead.

My pain is caused by my pleasure,

My soul mate lives in your body,

I can't get you out of my head,

It never goes away!

In my life, I'll need you here,

Don't ask why,

And I'll never disappear!

Why is it every day, that I feel the pain?

It always comes when I least expect it,

When I'm looking for love,

Always seem to be regretting it,

Why is it every day that I feel the pain?

-Godsmack "Moon Baby"

Vegeta threw a vicious punch at the bag hanging before him and it burst, showering him and everything else with the little beads that had filled it. Breathing hard from his training, Vegeta closed his eyes and let his head fall back. It wasn't working. In the past, training always helped ease the tension after a fight, but not any more. Ever since he and Bulma fell into bed together all those years ago, he could only find release in her arms. It infuriated him. He was Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans for Christ's sake! He wasn't supposed to need anyone! Never the less, he needed Bulma and his son, Trunks, had become more precious to him than he could ever have imagined. The mischievous, tough, playful little Saiyan had inherited his father's pride along with his power. Super Saiyan by the age of eight, Trunks had trained alongside Vegeta for years now, always striving to be better, stronger. It was an urge instilled in him by both his Saiyan blood and by Vegeta himself. Trunks wanted nothing more than to make Vegeta proud and so he did, in every way. His son was everything he could have wanted in a child, but words were not Vegeta's specialty, unless they were smart-ass comments or insults and, of course, death threats. His actions were the only way to tell how he felt. The most telling of those actions was his selfless attempt to kill the monster, Majin Buu, by destroying himself in a ball of white-hot fire and destruction. No one heard his words that day, "Bulma and Trunks, I do this for you!" When he was wished back to life with the Dragon Balls, along with the Earth and all it's inhabitants that Majin Buu's final form, Kid Buu, had destroyed, his reunion with his wife and son was bittersweet. Bulma cursed him through her tears for leaving them, while both she and Trunks held on to him as if he would disappear again. Vegeta had said nothing of his son's tears that day, as he had been holding his own tightly in check.

Shaking off the un-Saiyan like thoughts, Vegeta stalked to the door of the gravity chamber and let himself out, scowling. Glancing at the already dark sky, he headed inside to find his wife.

Bulma knew Vegeta was coming for her when she heard the door slam shut. She'd been waiting for him. He and Goku had been sparring that afternoon and Vegeta had once again tried to use training as a release. It never worked. He always ended up looking for her. She didn't mind. Making love to her gorgeous warrior husband was hardly a hardship.

He found her in the lab, as was usually the case, working on some machine or another. A technical genius, Bulma's inventions would have supported them nicely, even if she hadn't been the president of Capsule Corporation, the largest, most lucrative company in the world. Her father had been the founder and the Capsule Princess had become Queen upon his death, three years ago. The Queen, his queen, was tinkering on a small round object when he came through the door. Without missing a beat, she set the object down and turned into his arms, as he closed them around her. Without words, he dragged her mouth to his, hungrily. She gave herself up to him, sensing the tension in his muscles, his need to dominate. For now, at least, she was willing to let him.

Vegeta gripped his wife's upper arms and lifted her onto the edge of the counter. Moving between her knees, still kissing her, he used one hand to hold her to him and the other slipped up her bare leg and under her red mini dress. His fingers encountered a thin silk barrier and he pushed aside the already damp material, his fingertips searching for and finding the molten center of her. She moaned against his mouth as he delved into her folds, expertly bringing her to the edge, then slowing, letting her drift back down instead of going over. With an impatient growl, she stripped off his shirt and reached for his pants, but he was too fast for her. They were already gone. She heard silk tear, there goes another pair of panties, and then he was there, pressing into her, filling her. Gasping, she locked her legs around his waist, holding him inside her. With a primitive sound in the depths of his throat, Vegeta shoved the straps of her dress down her arms and bared her breasts to his hands and mouth. Bulma drew a sharp breath when his lips brushed her nipple, then closed around it. The heat of his mouth was maddening and he suckled and nipped until she was taut as a bowstring against him, her body straining for release. She tightened her muscles around him and he growled, grabbing her and spinning her to the wall, pressing her back up against the cool surface. Pinned against the wall, held up by her husband buried inside her, Bulma closed her eyes and held onto his shoulders. With one last hard kiss, Vegeta grasped her hips and pressed her body into the metal wall, sliding out of her, then thrusting back inside. She gripped the tense muscles beneath her fingers as Vegeta drove into her, over and over, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more powerful, as he neared the edge.

When the explosion came, Bulma wasn't ready for it. Her eyes widened and a surprised cry of pleasure escaped her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving bloody rivulets running down his back. The sharp pain, the smell of blood, it only heightened his pleasure and he slid deep inside her one last time, his body slamming into her and holding her against the wall as he spilled into her.

Minutes- Hours? Days?- later, he pulled back a little and gathered her against his chest. Still wrapped around him, Bulma leaned her head against his shoulder. They were both breathing hard, bodies slack with release. He carried her back to the counter, setting her on the edge and slid the straps of her dress back into place, gently pulling the stretchy material over her breasts, still swollen and sensitive from his attentions. Sliding his hands down her sides, he grasped the hem of the dress and slid it under her, down to mid-thigh, where it belonged. Kissing her forehead, he released her for long enough to grab his pants and pull them on. "Come here," she said, her voice still husky with passion. He looked at her. She was holding the First Aid kit, of which they had many. He was forever getting cut up and injured and she was sick of tearing up her clothes to make emergency bandages for him. With a sour look, he walked over to where she stood and stoically allowed her to clean the punctures her nails had made on his shoulders, then spread a small amount of antibacterial ointment on the little half-moon shaped cuts. Her doctoring finished for the moment, Vegeta turned, touched her face, gently, and left the room. As the door shut behind him, Bulma smiled. "I love you too, Vegeta."