Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Royal Control? ❯ Verbal Pot Shots Upgraded ( One-Shot )

Royal Control?

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Vegeta or Bulma, Akira Toriyama does. I wrote this in response to :iconKinky-typos: urging. I haven't written VxB in a while... at least new VxB. Here you go my friend!

 

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Gold straps gleamed in the light of her overhead lamp in the lab as the Saiyan Prince impatiently paced orbits around the benches. Piles of broken bits of robot littered many tables, some crushed like soda cans. Gold tipped boots tapped on the tiled floors, bringing their owner to a stop. Impatiently he snorted, standing right behind the lab-coated figure leaning over. Sparks flew up with a thin trail of smoke from the circuitry panel the young genius welded. Her back muscles screamed with protest yet she did not wish to show how sore they were in the watchful pitch-black stare of the Prince.

Imperially he tucked his gloved hands into the folds of his elbows and glared over her shoulder. Unimpressed he snorted, "Aren't you done YET?"

It always commenced as a game. Verbal sparring echoing in the small laboratory.  Over matters of battle, damaged bots, and complaints about new armor, they would trade verbal pot shots. Bulma touched off the debate when she uttered, "Well why don't you try fixing these bots and I'll blow up the GR!"

 

Dark eyes fixated on her, and then she saw the room boil and blur. She spun about to see him gone, and then saw something blocking the light. At eye level with hers, pitch black ones stared predatorily. Like a black hole, it seemed to absorb all light, with no visible iris, just a void without any stars shining in it. Most specifically, it was the hue of a forgotten patch of space showing a true absence of all color. Alternatively, a deep mine shaft she felt herself pitching forwards into. Against her parted lips, his hot breath pulsed, while her breasts squashed against hard white armor. However, an inch separated their lower halves below the waist.

 

"You think I'd care for such a foolish trade?" he asked, hot breaths fanning her lips and almost singing them.

 

"Ha, foolish? It doesn't take any talent to blow things up! It takes MY genius to put them together, Prince," Bulma answered, voice unwavering.

 

Her own lips parted, revealing pearly teeth along which she swiped the tip of her tongue. Uncertain she glanced back, not wanting to back down. Against her hips brushed the cuffs of his white gloves, gripping the countertop behind her. Therefore, when she pressed her palms to his armor and shoved, he remained as unmovable as a ten-ton weight. Under those fingertips, she could feel the density of his body. Something tickled the hairs on her skin and those on the back of her neck, compelling them to rise. Nostrils flaring she smelled ozone and blue lightening charging the air.

 

"So you're saying I'm an untalented brainless idiot? Like Kakarotto perhaps?"

 

"You said it, not me," Bulma answered.

 

"And you speak too much, I think. That chattering alone interrupts my concentration!"

 

"Then you should learn more control," she countered.

 

Only the sound of their rasping breaths filled the silence. Small creases formed under the angular eyes, accompanied by the upward twitch of the corners of his mouth. Retreating to the safety of verbal barbs, they soon realized it was inevitable.

 

"It takes much control not to crush your fragile body, or your pathetic excuse for furniture with my superior strength," Vegeta answered, his voice deepening. Tingling shocks collected in her extremities and between her legs at the sound. His own legs parted slightly, while his chest shoved her back into the counter so the edge dug into her backside. Raising her leg, Bulma slipped her thigh between his. Vegeta's eyes widened considerably feeling her smooth thigh slide right against the bulge of his spandex. Slowly and steadily, she rubbed, pressing a bit.

 

Her blue eyes twinkled as she cooed, "Control? Well how does THAT feel? Even a big bad Prince can't control feelings unless he's a eunuch or doesn't know what..."

 

The Saiyan Prince's lips parted, revealing his own teeth, just a slight bit sharper. His eyes rolled downwards to watch the action of that leg clad only in linen slacks teasing him. Her hands were trapped between their tightly pressed chests, but her other limbs were not similarly imprisoned. Instead of assuming he was invincible, she had crossed a line trying to outwit him with feminine wiles. Rocking her hips a bit she pressed their pelvises together.

 

"You might be super invulnerable, Prince, but you're still a man... male, and unless you have a thing for the male species, you can't deny this affects you..."

 

"Who says I don't prefer men, female," Vegeta taunted back, his breath catching in his throat.

 

"Whatever. If you admitted you screwed Yamcha that wouldn't dissuade me," Bulma winked, sliding her hands sensually along his armor as if it were bare skin.

 

"Lumping me in with that weakling boyfriend of yours, how foolish?" Vegeta taunted back, his voice rasping a bit with his effort to control the response she was evoking. Under the blue spandex Bulma saw his arm muscles twitching. His body stiffened against her, betraying his discomfort.

 

"Well he IS handsome. Else why would I have him?" the scientist licked her lips, watching how Vegeta's eyes flickered to follow its motion.

 

"Who's to say I wouldn't mind screwing HIM instead of you? You're just a weak female, and he at least has some strength in his body," Vegeta answered.

 

"Hah," Bulma snickered. "That's rather exciting though to think of... but not when I can show you a thing or two first, buddy."

 

"So you think you can distract me with that... petting?" Vegeta leaned closer, his breath full and hot now. Only an inch or two separated their noses, and she saw the flaring of his nostrils. Bulma slid one hand down, working it between them when she noticed he was fixated on her expression more.

 

"Maybe not, but it's fun watching you trying to be all badass and dominant," she winked. Something slid over his front, tickling and squeezing. Vegeta panted, blinking down at her with a look of disbelief.

 

"Is THAT your only defense?" he leered, giving her the most unimpressed look he could muster. HE turned his head to the side, denying the contact of her eyes to his.

 

"I do have you by the balls, so to speak," she answered. Down her back Vegeta slid his gloved hand. Bulma felt it push her forwards so their bottom halves were flush with each other. Her breasts squeezed almost flat to his chest, trapping her other hand in the valley between them. She let out a yelp, and then watched his gloved hand reach in and slip his fingers around the curve of her left mound. Instead of a tight pinch as Master Roshi would have done, Vegeta's fingers mimicked the motion that she used to distract him. Her mouth dropped open wide, and her eyes blinked in disbelief that he would do such a thing. Still she could not complain because his touch was even, controlled and the movement of his gloved hand through the shirt rubbed her nipple in a very arousing way.

 

"You're not the only one who can play... dirty, Bulma," Vegeta snickered, his harsh laughter ringing in her ears. She shivered from head to toe against him, before she perceived his hand cupping under her backside to lift her up and sit her on the counter. Then the fingers slipped away, and his legs bracketed her knees, trapping them between his. Into view, his other hand dipped, plunging between them to curl around the neglected breast.

 

"Pervert," Bulma snorted.

 

"I'm only playing by your rules, Bulma," Vegeta answered. "You're grabbing me in a very private place like the vulgar wench YOU are, and you dare complain when I return the favor?"

 

All the blue haired woman could do was throw her head back and enjoy the steady circular strokes on her sensitive mounds. Had it been that long since a man had touched her there without a perverted need? Granted Vegeta's hands were moving in ways Master Roshi or Oolong only dared dream, yet the pressure of his touch seemed more to arouse her than the grab of a pervert.

 

"Ohhh hell," Bulma moaned, her eyes blinking up at him. She released him, and succumbed to the warm waves of sensual comfort washing over her.

 

"I didn't give you permission to stop, Bulma," the Prince growled, startling her. She snapped blue eyes open, seeing the frown spreading across his tanned face. His gloved fingers slipped her lab coat buttons through their holes, baring her chest little by little to reveal the low V necked sweater she wore.

 

"What?" Bulma whispered, her heart pounding hard against her chest.

 

"Are you bluffing or not? You were the one who taunted me not to climb all over you. So now I'm calling your so called bluff, you scandalous wench," Vegeta continued. The frown twisted upward into a wicked smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. Roles reversed now, yet Bulma hardly cared since she had hoped he would show interest in the first place.

 

"All right then, you got me, but at least take the GLOVES off to touch me, hmm?" Bulma managed to stammer. He tugged the lab coat open, staring downwards and she felt the smooth fabric of his gloves sliding under the neck of her top and into the cups of her bra.

 

"No. You have the nerve to tell me, the Saiyan Prince what to do?" Vegeta answered, maintaining his wicked smile.

 

"Well, not really, I'd be stupid to do that, Vegeta," Bulma answered, licking her lips. She freed her hand once trapped between them, tickling her fingers along to the high top of his neck. He flinched slightly to feel them dance and tickle his chin. It was cute to see how his neck muscles twitched. He froze, enduring the fingers that probed his cheek then slid into the hair of his temple. Turning his head to the side, his lips brushed her palm and teeth lightly nipped her fingers without breaking the skin.

 

"Smart woman. Nevertheless, I will NOT remove my gloves. This is not on your terms now. You started this. Or are you losing your nerve to finish it?" he snickered, grasping her wrist. To do so he released her chest and then rubbed the base of her hand lightly. Heat seeped through the fabric of his glove, while his entire body flushed with the same warmth through his clothes.

 

"No, but I may want to feel your hands on my skin," she battered her eyelashes at him. Between the fabric of the bra and her skin, his gloved fingers teased her nipples deliciously until they pressed visibly out from her already swelling breasts.

 

"No," Vegeta answered. "I might just stop if you presume to order me around..."

 

"Don't you dare stop now. Or are YOU going to back out, Prince?" she pouted, pursing her red lips together. Against her leg's junction, she felt the stirring of his erection.

 

"Never. Don't taunt me, you wouldn't like the result," he answered with a growl that sounded more like a rumble of a lion. Still his eyes gleamed not with evil or malice, but mischievousness. He backed away, and then grabbed her wrist. He positioned it on the waistband of his pants, guiding her fingers to where he wanted them again. Bulma tickled his belly as she plunged her hand inside and slipped her fingers around something hard.

 

For a second her blue eyes grew round and wide with surprise. Then she wrinkled her nose to see Vegeta's grin gleaming white with those sharp teeth. Her heart pounded in the thrill of his sexy evil countenance. Bulma then pulled her hand out, gripping the edge of his pants on her way out. In the same movement she tugged them down, surprised by his hips shimmying slightly to help her. To do so he released her breasts, so together they peeled the blue fabric downwards. His tight undergarments rolled along with the pants bunched around his knees. Black eyes along with blue together gazed at his erection standing proudly at attention.

 

"I thought you LIKED me pissing you off?" Bulma answered, deepening her voice and leaning forwards. Her fingers massaged his scalp, loving the silkiness of his upward sweep of Saiyan hair. Soon her other hand migrated up, sliding along his arm and squeezing his biceps deliciously. Wrapping her fingers around his armor strap, she gripped it hard, and then angled her face to the side. His nostrils widened at the nearness of her breath wafting with rich feminine smell.

 

"Mmmn," Vegeta grunted. His nostrils again flared and he angled his head to the other side, knowing what she would try to do. Against her belly, his excitement brushed, and now it was his turn at being teased by her still clothed torso.

 

Those soft lips parted and he felt them press tightly to his. Latching on, her tongue slid against his lips, teasingly licking and probing. Recalling what he had seen on the soap operas that Mrs. Briefs watched, and what he had sometimes seen her do with the scar faced human he turned his head the opposite way. The Prince parted his lips, allowing her entry, and relished the slide of her tongue tasting him. In turn, he explored her soft mouth; swallowing her breath and fastening his mouth overtop hers. Bulma hooked her arm behind his strong neck, opening her own mouth wider and battled to slip her lips from under his and dominate the kiss. Yet the burst of ozone flavor and movement of his mouth intrigued her and she enjoyed the movements of his lips over hers. Hungrily she increased the pressure, drinking in the soothing motion and the incendiary breath merging.

 

Something heavy sat hard on her legs, tingling because it almost cut off the circulation. Vegeta half sat on her lap, squeezing her thighs together and causing her to tingle with anticipation. Now his hands seemed to forget her breasts, rather sliding along her arms and tugging at her clothes in handfuls. His left locked around her viselike and she felt the pressure of those hard biceps on her spine. White gloved fingers tangled locks of her teal hair, tugging it slightly and then cupping to grip her own neck as she did his.

 

White shreds of cloth fell to the floor at their feet. The determined Saiyan Prince showed her just how much control he could exercise. In turn, Bulma played along gleefully, releasing his strap so she could then plunge her hand to grip his now neglected excitement. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, enjoying the cool sliding of her slim fingers along the smooth length. Vegeta snickered, his white gloved hands now pulling at her slacks. Hastily Bulma let go of him so she could work open the button and tug at the zipper. Vegeta backed away, his intention clear. Somehow, they were undone and slipped down so they pooled around her ankles. He then stepped one boot between the creamy white smooth thighs and ankles, nudging them apart. Along the backs of her legs, she felt his gloves tickling, raising the legs around his hips.

 

"Wait," Bulma panted.

 

"What now?" Vegeta grumbled impatiently, brow knitting.

 

"Well er... aren't you going to er... finger me?" Bulma asked, glancing down. Already he seized her silky blue underpants in his fist.

 

"Why?" he blinked. Lace ripped and Bulma cursed to see her favorite pair of panties yanked off and tossed down like waste on the floor. Frigid air wafted against her vagina, now open and exposed.

 

"Hey! I could have taken those off... you know!" she shouted at him. Despite her irritation, she was enthralled at the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze examining the folds of her skin. She yelped at the pressure of his hand only lightly brushing against it. Something wet and moist seemed to come from within, soaking through the cloth of his glove. Vegeta lifted his hand to his face, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together so Bulma saw the wetted spots.

 

"You smell strongly, you vulgar woman," he commented, touching his tongue to the moistness that was uniquely her.

 

"That's why I need your help. It's going to ah... be hard to put THAT in me if I don't get wetter, you know?" she asked quietly, her anger diminishing.

 

"Silence, will you," Vegeta hushed her, his eyes narrowing. The pressure of something hard and hot prodding at her entrance stopped the next words in her throat. Vegeta's eyes bored into hers, pinning her into place. She shivered, welcoming the tip of his saiyanhood nudging, before it spread her. Wincing Bulma squirmed at the hard pressure of him sinking into her. Pain and discomfort rushed through her, yet she felt the intense thrill of being impaled once more.

 

"Ohhh hell," Bulma stammered, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to relax her body. "Vegeta... I need..."

 

Feeling the tight, resistant Vegeta stopped. He rasped against her ear, "Show me where."

 

"Here," she indicated, glad he let her hands freely roam. While she again played with the ebony bristles of his spiky cone of hair, her left hand traveled to lightly rub the aching clit.

 

Only partway in, he marveled at the softness and warmth he now sank into. It had been far too long, and he enjoyed the control he had. Only their intimate parts touched, and he could maintain his distance wrapping gloved hands around her backside to lift her up and tilt her back. Bulma's fingertip bruited his shaft plunged only halfway in, and she let small breaths sail past her lip that she bit down upon.

 

"So tight, dammit," Vegeta gritted. Delicious moisture slipped along him and then he felt an easy moist channel welcoming him. Focusing his dark eyes, he pushed himself completely in until his nose sank into her shoulder. Bulma whimpered and gasped, her legs tightening around his hips. A sigh of relief whispered into his ear, her nose tickling its sensitive lobe. Inside her, he twitched, deep and hard, and she shifted her hips at the first sharp jab.

 

"Uhh," he mumbled, pulling back slightly. Once more, he thrust inward, gliding freely along and relishing the softness that contrasted to his hardness. Treated to a rasping moan from her lips he lazily pounded in and out, not in any hurry to work her or himself to frenzy. He planned to enjoy the depths to which she accommodated him. Not every female he had so coupled with was so willing or pleased to wrap herself around his person.

 

Bulma felt the contrast of his hard armor slapping against her hot breasts. Leaning away, Vegeta gazed down into her half-shut eyes. Bulma's head of ridiculous curly hair that puffed around her head so absurdly swung back. The sight of her mouth dropping open and her dark lashed eyes pressed tightly shut was delightful, as was the sound of her soft cries. In time with his quickening movements they were.

 

Bulma clung to him, her back arched, and her body swaying with the motion that increased in tempo. Tugging on his hair, she then pulled her other hand to grip his shoulder and give herself more advantage. Then her lips descended on his and her tongue sweetly merged and danced with his. Eclipsed by her taste and her incredible embrace from within Vegeta could not resist boosting her up and climbing onto the table. For a moment he stopped, wringing a muffled cry of protest into his mouth.

 

"Hey, now wait!" she panted, annoyed at his sudden smirk. Looming over her, he knelt between her open legs, his hand slamming down beside her head to support his weight.

 

"I have you at my mercy, you know," he answered.

 

"More screwing, less talking, Vegeta!" Bulma panted, tugging him down on top of her.

 

Vegeta grabbed her backside, squeezing and rubbing as he pulled her down around him and then sat on his knees. Yelping, Bulma felt him stab even deeper. Upwards he thrust, causing circuitry sitting on the table to bounce perceptibly towards the edge before it clattered and crashed to the floor. Bulma's cries synched to his satisfied grunts. Her pleasure contorted face and parted lips whimpered his name and incomprehensible syllables with each stab inside that she could feel in her belly if she rubbed it. Deep inside Bulma, he twitched, scraping along her passageway so deliciously. That itching burn of pleasure she relished soon tingled, and Bulma howled with the waves washing over her.

 

Vegeta stopped at the undulating pressure gripping his saiyanhood. Gasping the Prince held Bulma's quivering body that rocked on him. Her fingers tore at his hair and her fingernails dug into the spandex of his shoulder, not quite piercing the fabric. Impulsively he sealed off her lips, swallowing the sound of her cry and muffling it with a hungry kiss. Deeply he plunged his tongue into her sweet mouth, mimicking his last pounding pushes. Next he tensed, his fingers gripping so tightly into her bottom that he was certain the flesh would bruise. Still he reigned in his control, not wishing to crush her for a Prince had better command of his abilities than this.

 

Twitching inside her, she then sensed a hot spurting eruption. Vegeta's own cry muffled against her lips, while his entire body swayed in tandem with hers. For a long time, they trembled together, sharing a climax that sparked each nerve ending to an overload. Through their nostrils, their breath exhaled and Bulma had to pull back from the kiss. Spots swam in her vision and she melted around him like liquid blue. At least that is what it seemed to be in her pleasure numb brain. Against his solid dense body, she collapsed, panting his name.

 

Sticky, and sweat saturated, she hugged his neck with her arms. Vegeta's own arms imprisoned her, pressing her down flush with his skin sticking to hers. His breaths rasped against her ear, tickling it. For a while, they said nothing, just relished the closeness, and dared not utter a word that would ruin the afterglow of their orgasm.

 

"Vegeta, that was… something else," she whispered.

 

"Naturally, Bulma. What did you expect?" he muttered, lifting his head from her shoulder. Their eyes again met, and she gave him a warm smile that caused him to blink oddly. He winced, shaking his head at the grin spreading over her face. Giddy with the afterglow she kissed the tip of his nose.

 

"Now what?" the Prince wondered, loathing to admit to her how much he had enjoyed what just transpired.

 

"Nothing. I am just wondering who has who at whose mercy now?" she cooed, catching his mouth with another lazy kiss. Vegeta endured it, knowing he felt damned good with her containing him. Thanks to her, he would soon want to play again, and knew she would tax his control even more.

 

"Does it matter?" Vegeta asked, and then silenced her with another kiss. For a while their tongues roamed, their kiss a dessert to a hard fast entree that surprised them both.

 

Releasing her from the kiss, he pulled back, seeing her red lips fuller with the force of such hard contact. Bulma traced circles on his shoulders, and then murmured, "No I guess not. But you can't expect me to fix the bots any faster thanks to you!"

 

"I thought you were a genius, Bulma," Vegeta smirked again. "Surely you can figure out a way to fix the bots AND test my control simultaneously, mm?"

 

"Ha ha, laugh it up, your Highness," Bulma sarcastically rolled her eyes. Yet she had to laugh. It would take a long time, but Vegeta made no move to release her, and somehow she knew he was far from done. On the other hand, that the bots hardly mattered when he had her to test him instead.