Burn | By : kallysadau Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ and characters nor do I make any money from writing this |
Vegeta gasped for air when his back slammed against the rocky Cliffside. Jagged bits of rock dug into his back, head, and ass each time he moved his body back or upwards or whenever Kakarot forced his knees up against his hips. The warmth from the summer heat made each touch of their bodies feel like hot fire between them.
His legs wrapped tighter around Kakarot’s waist, pulling them closer. The heat between them burned. Dark eyes locked onto each other, and Kakarot smirked, lifted his left leg higher, and slammed into him harder.
He let out a breathy moan, his thoughts lost in the pleasure of having Kakarot’s dick up his ass. The feeling of having something pushing against muscles that tried to force out Kakarot’s cock stimulated the nerves in his ass. Each push and shove drove him closer to the edge until his blunt fingernails and teeth dug into whatever flesh they could find to hold in anything louder than a grunt. Soon, even that wouldn’t be able to stop him. Kakarot knew just how to bend his body to make him scream.
Vegeta licked the salty sweat off Kakarot’s shoulder while sucking on one of the small wounds he created with his teeth. They had been going at it like this for the past few months—neither of them ever brought it up or mentioned it outside of training. In fact, they never mentioned it at all. Vegeta had no problem with that whatsoever.
Kakarot pinched his nipples, and Vegeta moaned, bucking his hips harder. He wanted to pull away to get more delicious friction on them but couldn’t. His fingers dug into the soft skin and hard muscles that pressed against him, leaving harsh reddish imprints behind. He chuckled, a deep throaty sound that showed his amusement. An unspoken challenge that only they understood.
Vegeta threw his body weight forward, toppling them over. He heard a grunt when they both hit the ground—his fall somewhat broken by Kakarot’s body. Vegeta slammed back down on Kakarot’s dick, his fingers digging deep into the chiseled forearms beneath him. Throwing his head back, Vegeta watched Kakarot’s body glisten with sweat and those taut muscles move beautifully underneath his pale flesh.
Kakarot flipped him over so that he was on his hands and knees, legs spread out like some bitch in heat, a cheap whore who would beg and moan for more. And he loved every second of it. The smell of sex, blood, and sweat. The call of the hunt and thrill of their bodies becoming one. The hot sun beating down on them or the night air cooling them down. It didn’t matter when or where, each time left him satiated.
His teeth sunk into the soft tender skin of Kakarot’s neck again, and Vegeta tasted sweat, dirt, and this time, a little blood. He knew later on, Kakarot would feel the sting of his marks, and the thought of that pleased him, knowing that even though they never talked about it, Kakarot would feel his presence long after they went their separate ways, just like he did.
The burn of his scratches and welts couldn’t compare to the burn in his ass and thighs. The burning in his soul that never seemed to end except in these brief moments of lust.
He cried out, and thought that maybe a name might have escaped his lips, but Vegeta refused to acknowledge it. Thinking too much would only ruin what they had. And he knew Kakarot wouldn’t bring it up either. It was something the both of them could easily ignore in favor of pleasure and that slight sting of pain when bruises from training would scrap against rock or greedy fingers would dig in deep.
Vegeta dared to glance up for a brief moment, taking in the way Kakarot’s eyes roamed over his body and how beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and onto his neck and chest. Kakarot looked the perfect warrior in everyway: strong and muscular, thick black hair, and power. Power that forced an acknowledgment in Vegeta with each thrust and made his balls tighten with excitement. Only then, he would find his release.
And they moved in perfect harmony, the thrill of their own private battle still on their minds, the movement of flesh and muscle, defining their desires and lusty needs. No one needed to know, and no one would probably even care. They were the last of their race, living among people who knew nothing about them, their loved ones long dead from old age.
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