Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Only What You Can Give ❯ Only What You Can Give ( Chapter 7 )

Bulma ran back to her room and found the set of delicate pick-like tools she used on the tiny electronic devices she so loved to develop. Vegeta could not shut her out like that. The way he'd looked at her, the way he'd touched her. Her whole body was on fire. All she wanted was for him to explain. To tell her why she was in danger from him and how long he had felt this way. She paused out in the hall, looking down at the tools in her hands. To hell with how he felt, how did she feel? True she liked the bad boy persona, but there was more to Vegeta than that.

There were times when he reminded her of herself. That same aloof manner, that same lonely existence surrounded by people who didn't really know her. True she was always in the thick of things, but she was never in the group. She felt tears form in the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to be alone anymore, but she refused to force herself on him. She returned to her room and replaced the tools. Then slowly she made her way back to his bedroom. She would try one more time then she would let it drop. She knocked softly.

"Vegeta?"

Her voice invaded his dream and pulled him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and fought the urge to open the door.

"Vegeta, please…I…"

There was so much sadness in her voice. She was lonely, he realized suddenly, perhaps she was even as lonely as he was. He rose slowly, hoping and dreading that she would leave. He crossed the room and opened the door. She stood in the hall, hands clasped in front of her, face a mask of uncertainty. He stepped aside and she entered. The click of the closing door sounded ridiculously loud in the small room. Vegeta squeezed his eyes closed and faced the now closed door. If he didn't look at her, if he didn't touch her he could maintain control.

"What do you want?" He growled out through clenched teeth.

She did not answer, and at first he thought she would not. Perhaps he had angered her and she would leave. Then he felt warm hands run up his back and over his shoulders, tracing down his arms. His eyes snapped open as she turned him to face her. Cupping his face in her hands she looked hard at him. There was no smile on her lips, no laugh in her eyes, only searching. The full moon shone on the compound. Moonlight streamed through the window to illuminate the scene as the two stared at each other, each trying to comprehend what they were feeling and neither used to what they were experiencing. She took a step closer, their bodies almost touching.

"You…I want you. Anything you're willing to give me and nothing more."

He reached up and touched her hand. "We really are two of a kind, aren't we? How did we make it before?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, but it hurt like hell, every step of it. All I really know for sure is it doesn't hurt so much with you around."

He saw tears forming in her eyes. "Please don't cry." He pulled her into his arms. "Please."

She buried her face in his chest and held on to him. She felt the change the moment it happened. His chest muscles suddenly tensed. She looked up at him and saw his face awash with a plethora of emotion. There was fear and anger on his face, but his eyes burned with an indisguisable fire as he gazed down at her. She remember the kitchen suddenly, and his fears there.

"You won't hurt me. I know you won't."

"I want to believe you, Bulma, I really do, but…one way or another I will hurt you. If not tonight, then when I leave."

She smiled up at him. "I ask only for what you can give. If one night is all, then that is what I want."

Just as in his dream, he was determined to be gentle. He banished the instincts that were telling him to throw her to floor and take her forcefully as his mate. Instead he kissed her gently, his warm soft lips plying her with sweet promises. She trembled and he gathered her closer. Just the feel of her in his arms was amazing. So warm and soft and vulnerable, yet he'd witnessed the fire that burned just beneath the surface. He suddenly knew he wanted that fire to consume him utterly.

He lifted her and carried her to the bed. They lay down together, and his mouth found her neck. She arched her back and gasped softly as his teeth scored her skin. He tasted the coppery sweet taste of her blood, and vowed to always remember the flavor. His hands slid up her shirt, lifting it over her head and tossing it aside, freeing her breasts to his hungry gaze. His mouth moved from the wound on her neck to her breasts. She gasped and dug her fingers into his wild hair as his tongue danced over her pert nipple. He felt her hands pushing at his shorts.

"Vegeta…Vegeta…" he looked up at her. Her eyes were glazed with passion as she looked down at him. "Enough foreplay."

She lifted her hips and pushed her panties off, tossing them aside, then reached for him once more. Vegeta claimed her mouth in a fiery kiss as she freed his erection. He climbed between her legs and entered her in a single sure thrust. Her hips rose to meet his as he set the tempo for their love making. Her legs wrapped around his hips, locking him against her and opening herself even more to his powerful thrusts. Vegeta lost himself inside her, unable to control his own body anymore he was drowning in sensation. He leaned over and lapped at her blood, tasting the salt of her sweat and the spicy tang of her arousal. Her nails dug furrows in his back and the pain only served to increase his passion.

He could feel her building toward her climax and slowed suddenly, wanting to draw it out. She whimpered in disappointment and gyrated her hips against him, trying to encourage him to greater ardor. He grinned maniacally at her and stopped suddenly. Her face twisted in rage.

"Vegeta…what…"

He leaned over his mouth by her ear. "Never, ever let Yamcha touch you again."

Her eyes widened in shock. Here they were on the edge of something profound, something indescribable and he was making demands. She closed her eyes and tried to move against him but he pinned her, his hands on her shoulders, his hips pressing hers down.

"Never let him touch you. I don't care about the rest, I don't care if you turn to another after I am gone, but if it is Yamcha, then I swear, even if I am dead, I will find a way to rip him and you to pieces."

There was a feral tone to his voice, the sound of the barely suppressed animal she knew he and Goku were. "I swear. Yamcha is nothing to me. He will never touch me again."

The noise that escaped Vegeta was something close to a sigh. His hands slide behind her, lifting her against him as his hips resumed their erotic dance. Bulma clutched at him, and he could feel her building toward her orgasm once more. He made no attempt to slow or stop this time. The animal of his nature would not be denied and the man in him, for once, agreed with the beast. He felt himself nearing his climax and slammed himself into her to the hilt. Bulma gasped as her orgasm took her and her inner walls contracted around him as he released his seed deep within her.

Trembling and spent they lowered themselves to the bed. Vegeta was loath to leave the comforting warmth of her body, but she was human, and her stamina was not as great as his. He began to pull himself out of her, but her hands on his back stopped him. Her smile was coy and seductive.

"You think you get off that easily? I said one night, not one round."

Vegeta could not help but grin. He understood what Kakarot had meant when he'd said he didn't need or want a Saijin wife. Chichi, he'd claimed, was more than enough woman for him. Vegeta bent and kissed Bulma, but far more gently than before. This was more than enough woman for him. He could easily see himself spending the rest of his life knowing no other.