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Saiyan Instinct	By : Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 4161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter contributed by : lynnwood84

::Chapter 11::

Vegeta and Bulma

~~*~~

"Just what in the hell is THAT supposed to mean?" Bulma demanded,
attempting to ignore the faintly frightened tremble in her voice. She felt him
smirk against the skin of her shoulder, then she yelped slightly as his soft
tail suddenly slipped up her skirt.
"Oh, I think you can guess, woman."
"So you're just gonna go at it in the middle of the street, huh?"
she snapped, slightly piqued. "Real romantic, Vegeta."
She cried out a little, then, in shock and astonishment as Vegeta suddenly
shoved a hand up her shirt without a qualm. She smacked at the offending
appendage, stuttering with rage, but he merely ignored her and instead curled
his fingers beneath the band of her bra. She gaped, stunned, as he calmly
emerged again with the blue-labeled capsule that she'd hidden there.
"I believe you came prepared with lodgings," he taunted,
needlessly showing her the capsule in his palm before clicking the top and
tossing it a good thirty yards away. Bulma watched with a glare as the capsule
house poofed into existence.
Vegeta wasted little time, dragging her toward it and then inside with the
hold he had on her wrist, ignoring Bulma's violent curses and threats to his
person in between. Somewhere between there and the house Bulma lost both of her
shoes, too busy trying to kick at her stubborn and ungracious Saiyan lover to
care if they remained on her feet.
Oblivious, Vegeta dragged her through the main room and into the bedroom,
then pushed her up against the wall near the bed. Bulma opened her mouth to
screech at him and ended up getting his tongue stabbing deep into her mouth as
Vegeta gave her a rough kiss, then he pulled back again. Then she was suddenly
flooded with a bright yellow-white light and Bulma jerked.
"Vegeta what are you DOING?!" she screamed, terrified, her eyes
wide and staring at the ki ball that Vegeta had gathered in his free hand. He
gave her a pointed look, expression hard as he yanked her arm up high above her
head against the wall.
"Teaching you a lesson."
She screamed out when the Saiyan Prince released the ki blast, then blinked,
stunned, when she wasn't fried to a crisp. Bulma tilted her head back and
stared, stunned, at the brilliant yellow ring curling around her wrist and
embedding deep into the wall, holding her there like a manacle. Too floored by
this new development, the beautiful scientist didn't even think to struggle as
Vegeta repeated the process with her other arm, then he forced her legs apart
and blasted rings onto her ankles as well. And then, the finishing touch, he
blasted one around her neck, just under her chin.
She could only stare, blue eyes flared to their limits, while Vegeta smirked
that damnable smirk of his, obviously pleased with himself.
"I never took you for a sadist," she finally snapped, highly
indignant, "though maybe it should have been obvious."
"Whatever works," was his growling reply before he reached for the
buttons of her blouse, unhurried now that he knew she couldn't get away. Bulma
heaved a little for good measure a few times though, her temper good and flared
now, continually throwing insults and verbal lashings in his face, which Vegeta
stoutly ignored.
He merely continued to undress her, slow and deliberate. First her blouse,
tearing it in half once he'd unbuttoned it, then her skirt, ripping it apart as
well. Then he unhooked the blue satin bra she wore with a practiced ease,
snapping the straps in half to remove it. He gazed down at the matching panties
for a moment before shrugging, finally reaching down and tearing the thin
material apart like it was tissue paper.
"I am going to KILL you, you inconsiderate PRICK!" she screamed.
"That was my favorite outfit!"
"Like you can't buy another," he muttered absently, stepping back
to give her now naked frame a good once over, absently tugging off the black
sleeveless half-jacket he wore, then removing the fingerless blue gloves on his
fists.
He shook his head slightly with a sigh. As usual, Vegeta could find no fault
in her. He silently marveled at how one being could hold such utter, physical
perfection. And she was even more beautiful when that feisty temper of hers was
unleashed, making her cheeks blush hot and her blue eyes gain a slightly wild
look to them that the Saiyan Prince found quite pleasant. Which was why he
pricked her anger so often. But right now he had a purpose, and reminded of
this, he scowled. Vegeta ignored the hard tug of his instinctual desire, his
resolve hardening.
Bulma watched somewhat warily as Vegeta came back in front of her, staring
right in her eyes and nowhere else, his dark irises shielded and colder than
she'd seen them in a long, long time.
"Vegeta?" she whimpered, fear and uncertainty coursing full out
through her frame, despite the fact that Kale told her she didn't have any
reason to be. It was hard to think of such things when you had the dark Prince
of the Saiyan staring you right in the face with an obviously hurtful intention
in mind.
Bulma lurched slightly in her bonds as Vegeta bent, hot breath nearly
burning her flesh as he started to kiss and bite at her neck and chest, more
rough than usual, nips nearly breaking the skin. Her eyes squeezed shut, then
gasped when both of his hands took each breast in their grasp, kneading and
caressing the firm weight while his thumbs traced torturous circles across her
areolas, hardening them nearly instantly. But his grip was firm . . . almost
painful.
"Did you know that your scent," he suddenly growled, "grows
stronger when you're afraid?"
Bulma gulped at that bit of information, then her eyes flew wide again as
she felt his tail suddenly brush persistently up between her legs, rubbing back
and forth against her womanhood, nearly harsh with it's motion . . . but not
quite. Bulma moaned. There was just something about the sensation of his fur
down there that was . . . indescribable. Vegeta let his strong hands keep up
their work on her breasts as his tail continued to stroke her into a frenzy of
need.
"And it gets even sweeter when you're wet," he continued, his
faintly rasping voice growing even darker than before.
Bulma couldn't think to answer him, too aroused now to care what he was
saying. Just so long as he kept up what he was doing for just a little longer.
Yet, almost as soon as she thought that, Vegeta suddenly yanked himself away.
Bulma gasped, upended and all out of sorts, watching as Vegeta turned on his
heel as calm as you please and stalked away.
"Vegeta!" she demanded to his back. "What in Dende's name are
you doing?!"
Bulma could only watch, shell-shocked, as Vegeta prowled over to the
refrigerator and opened it, getting himself a bottle of water. She gawked as he
drank it. He seemed to be completely unaffected about their little encounter
while her whole body was throbbing with nearly painful need. And suddenly she
wanted to cry, so did so.
"Don't you even care?!"
That got his attention finally. Vegeta spun back, throwing the now empty
bottle aside with a loud clatter.
"Don't I care?" he demanded harshly, stalking back to her.
"DON'T I CARE!? Who is the one who will not even trust their mate enough
to remain faithful? To think that I would lower myself to seeking out some
random, worthless human bitch to ease myself upon!" Bulma blinked the
tears from her eyes, stunned, and could only continue to stare silently as
Vegeta came back to stand in front of her. "You seemed to so easily
contrive that I could hurt you, woman," he finished in a hiss, sneering,
and the faint note of pain in his voice was her undoing. "I just thought
I'd live up to your low expectations of me."
"Well then why did you ignore me earlier?" she demanded, but there
wasn't any fire behind her voice anymore. He threw his arms up, exasperated.
"I was waiting for you to pull over! Gods know I couldn't touch you
with you behind the wheel of that stupid conveyance, you'd have ended up
killing yourself!"
That made Bulma wince.
Vegeta motioned suddenly, and the ki bands around her wrists, ankles and
throat abruptly fizzled away, freeing her. Then he spun back around and started
to leave again. He was halted when Bulma reached out and grabbed his hand.
Vegeta turned back and stiffened slightly when the woman abruptly threw her
arms around his neck, clinging to him and burying her face in his shoulder, the
wetness he felt there testimony to the fact that she continued to cry.
"I'm sorry, Veggie," she whispered, using her stupid pet name for
him. But that meant that she wasn't absolutely furious with him, amazingly.
He'd fully expected to have to suffer through the Blue Moon without release
after what he'd just subjugated her to. But, per usual, the woman refused to
operate on the normal levels of sense and reason. He smirked, letting his arms
come around her after a moment, his tail slowly curling around her thigh.
Perhaps THAT was why they got on so well.
She pulled away after only a minute, leaning back to give him a smirk that
was frighteningly similar to his own.
"Now that THAT's taken care of, maybe you'd like to go ahead and finish
what you started?"
Vegeta held back the cocky grin and gave her a sour look instead.
"I'm not feeling very inspired."
That did it. Her pretty smirk dissolved into a righteously pissed of scowl
before she jerked out of his embrace altogether.
"NOT VERY INSPIRED?!" she shrieked, hands coming up to prop onto
her curvy hips. "You are a FIRST class JERK, Vegeta, you know that?!"
"Yes and that's why you love me so much," he inserted, then began
to chuckle when she unwittingly agreed.
"That's not the point! You---," She stopped at the sound of his
laughter, her blue eyes narrowing. "Don't push me, vegetable breath."
He crossed his arms, unafraid in the face of his mate's fury. He might not
be able to chase his woman, or fight her . . . but she more than challenged him
on an intellectual level. It was her ferocious temper, her utter lack of fear
of his and then her crafty, often devious intelligence that had first attracted
him to her all those years ago . . . so it was only fitting that Vegeta use
this side of her to ease his need of a challenge tonight.
"Push you to what?" he taunted, smirking, knowing such a look
would throw his pretty mate over the edge. "The brink of insanity? I
believe you are already a permanent resident, woman."
That was all she wrote. With a furious snarl Bulma launched herself at him,
nails bared, even though she KNEW she couldn't hurt him. Vegeta had come to
believe that if she COULD have hurt him, she'd never have done it. With a
somewhat weary sigh, Vegeta easily snatched her fists before they could try to
do any damage and then pushed her back onto the bed(though gently). He followed
her down before Bulma could try to get her bearings, pinning her to the comfy
mattress with his own weight.
"I hate you," Bulma grumbled as Vegeta maneuvered her like a
puppet on a string, which won her a wide and shameless grin.
"I know," he purred, then bent and caught her mouth again.
If there was to be ANYTHING said about the man, he sure did know how to kiss
a girl. Bulma gave in with a groan, her body still aching desperately for the
release he'd denied her before, squirming somewhat impatiently and tugging at
the black tank-top Vegeta wore. The prince briefly lifted away from her, long
enough to yank the offending garment up and over his head, then swooped back
down again and continued to ravish her mouth.
Bulma loved to touch him and did so now, running the flat of her palms down
the ridged muscles of his broad back. Vegeta pulled his mouth from hers and
kissed her cheek instead, then her nose, her chin, then the hollow of her
throat. Bulma bit her lip slightly, arcing a little beneath him and flattening
her breasts against the hard wall of his chest while her fingers absently
traced the line of a ragged scar that curved Vegeta's back and side. His torso
was a tanned patchwork of them, scars and old wounds . . . a testimonial to the
harsh life and the horrible hardships that he'd had to endure for the first
half of his life before he came to her.
Bulma found her eyes flooded with tears for some reason, overcome not for
the first time with an overwhelming desire to just hold him. Vegeta had had so
little love in his lifetime and she always tried to make up for it with extra
attention, which sometimes got on the surly Prince's nerves, she knew. Vegeta
suddenly chuckled, and lifted away from where he was trying to devour her neck.
He grinned down at Bulma's slightly teary-eyed visage, his black eyes warmed
over despite the sneeringly teasing expression on his face.
"Trust me, woman, your affection is enough to choke a horse," he
growled, voice somewhat gruff, "I do not want for any." Bulma tensed
as she felt his tail curl up between her legs again and continue it's forgoten
game while it's owner gently brushed away the few tendrils of aqua green hair
from her face. He then settled himself on his side with one fist propping his
head up, so that he could watch her face. Bulma's eyes tried to close with the
pleasure, but Vegeta nuzzled at her face with his nose until she opened them
again.
"You have my Bond woman," he began, his tail never breaking a
stroke as he continued to speak, voice calm and placid, as if he were giving
the weather report. "I swore to myself when I was only a child that I
would never succumb to such a threatening weakness as a Mating Bond. I swore
that I would never grow attached to anything, therefore I could never be hurt
or taken advantage of by my enemies. I WOULD be the strongest warrior in the
Universe and I would have nothing to hold me back. And then YOU came
along." Bulma cried out slightly as Vegeta's wicked tail suddenly shoved
itself deep into her aching wetness, her fists balling into the pillows under
her head when it started to thrust mercilessly, eyes shutting once more and
this time Vegeta didn't stop her.
"I find myself being challenged by a weak little human female," he
began again, "with utterly no ki strength to speak of. Yet despite her
physical shortcomings, she taunts and teases me without fear, without qualm.
She matches and rivals me like no other; her temper just as hot as mine, her
mind just as quick, her pride just as strong, her pain just as deep."
Vegeta's fingers slipped gently through Bulma's silky hair as his tail kept
up it's duties below. His temper flared as his thoughts turned to the slashing
wounds that still cut deep into the heart of his mate, because of that
disgustingly weak former-mate of hers and his continual unfaithfulness to her
when they had been together. The Saiyan knew that it was partly Yamcha's fault
that Bulma continued to doubt HIS ability to remain loyal to her alone, even to
this day, due to the heartache she'd endured at that bastard human's hands.
"I was helpless to deny my need to have this temperamental wench,"
he began again, winning him a faint scowl, though it eased into another lusty
moan when his tail stroked especially deep. "Because of this she soon gave
me a son that could tempt the very saints to commit suicide just to be rid of
his mischief, and one day a little Princess as well. Even in my darkest hours,
completely consumed with the bitter hatred and the wounded pride that had
festered for so long inside of me, I could not turn away from her . . . and so
I died for you, woman."
Bulma screamed then, finally driven to the climax that she'd been trying to
achieve, for some reason her pleasure increased that much more from Vegeta's
words in between. The Saiyan Prince removed his tail but continued to speak,
fingers brushing almost absently across the tiny droplets of sweat that had
started to bead her brow.
"I died that day to keep you and the Brat safe and I would do it again if
given half the chance. I finally accepted the fact that I could never beat
Kakkarott. My own strength could never match it, I could never create such
power by myself. Alone, I didn't have it." Vegeta lifted up and looked her
right in the eye, expression deadly serious. "But I found that strength in
you."
There was a moment of silence, Vegeta's faintly uncomfortable and Bulma's
stunned beyond all belief.
"I am not your human mate, woman," he began again, voice rough.
"A Saiyan will never stray to another no matter the circumstance, and when
the time comes, a Saiyan will not live without their Mate beside them. Do you
leave from this world first, woman, it will not be long before I follow you
into the afterlife." Then the surly Prince cleared his throat and glared.
"And if you EVER repeat even one syllable of all that I'll blow up the
gravity chamber into smoking ashes and make you rebuild me a new one from
scratch."
At that Bulma busted out laughing.
"You are hopelessly adorable, do you know that?" she finally
wheezed when she could, blue eyes shining. Vegeta glared, looking a bit
disgruntled.
"I am NOT adorable."
Bulma just smiled, her fingers tracing that high, pointed hairline before
combing back through the stiff spikes.
"You're adorable if I say you're adorable, you stubborn mule, now come
here."
Bulma used the leverage of her hand curling around his broad neck to bring
Vegeta's face back down to her and she treated him to a few hot kisses of her
own. The prince had been showing almost god-like restraint up until now, but at
that, he lost it. With a faint groan he suddenly sat up and tore off his pants,
barely keeping from ripping the cloth into pieces. And then he pounced back
onto his giggling mate.
Bulma bit her lip again as Vegeta forced her up and onto her hands an knees,
then groaned aloud when he pushed his way into her from behind. Her arms
dropped down onto her elbows, her eyes squinting with her face somewhat buried
into the pillows to muffle her loud moans as the prince started to move, in a
rhythm the both of them had become quite accustomed to over the years.
Vegeta clung to Bulma's hips, scowl fierce and sweat beginning to sheen
heavily over his frame where he kneeled behind her, as he continued to thrust.
He kept this up for nearly an hour or more, his force of will inhuman and his
control iron-willed, though the stubborn warrior was forced to spike his
power-level dramatically and fire up his ki somewhat to pull it off. When her
inner-walls clenched down hard on his shaft with her second release, her cry
muffled, the Prince clenched his jaw and somehow managed to endure the torment.
Vegeta suddenly flipped Bulma over onto her back and then was back inside
her in the very next breath, movements steady and utterly controlled, glaring hard
at a spot on the wall just beyond her face. The scientist forced her eyes to
open, and lifted her hand to one of his raw-boned cheeks, making him look down
at her.
"Let go, Vegeta," she whispered.
At that he suddenly growled, and then he was driving into her like a man
possessed. Bulma could do nothing but allow herself to be carried along for the
ride. And what a ride! Eventually, Vegeta was helpless but to let go as she had
told him, but not before carrying Bulma away into her third release as well. He
himself let loose a loud scream as he came, his black eyes glinting with a pale
green hell-fire and his dark hair gaining an undeniable golden glow before he
finally stilled once more, spent.
For now at least.
- 10
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Saiyan Instinct

::Chapter 11::Vegeta and Bulma

::Chapter 11::

Vegeta and Bulma