Vengeance of a Prince *COMPLETED*

Chapter 15

Pan gasped for breath as she woke. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending ultra-sensitive and her nipples and nether parts were tingling. Confusion warred with instinct in her head and Pan whimpered, sliding out of bed and away from Bura. She was mostly nude, wearing panties and a camisole top, but she gave no thought to covering herself as she moved through the halls of Capsule Corp. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking for. Vejita’s scent. It was everywhere, though, and the trails seemed to lead nowhere. Somewhere up ahead was his bedroom and his scent was strong from that direction, but there was also a trail leading down the hall in the opposite direction, toward the stairs, as if he’d just passed by there. She didn’t pause to wonder why she was following Vejita’s scent, why she felt this need to find him, as if her life depended on it. Finally, her consciousness gave way to her instincts and she moved stealthily toward the stairs that led to the next level and to Vejita’s bedroom.

Halfway there, she paused, her senses on full alert. She smelled sex and blood and death - and a Saiyajin. The rush of her blood escalated to a roar and she raised a hand to the door handle.

~*~

Gohan’s nostril’s flared and his head snapped up, black eyes focused on the door. The handle was slowly turning and he felt his body begin to respond to the scents that were reaching him even through the wood. Heat and sex and sweat and Saiyajin - a woman in heat.

Had he been the man he was before Trunks’ death, he would have fled to avoid the mindless violence and sex of rut, but not now. This Gohan licked his lips in anticipation as the ancient Saiyajin instincts fired his blood and readied his body for the female who was coming through the door. The bloody sheets were still on the bed, though Bulma’s body was gone. Piccolo had gone to leave it somewhere for Vejita to find, like maybe in the lab, or floating uselessly in the Saiyajin regeneration tank beside Trunks, just another reminder of the Saiyajin no Ouji’s powerlessness to protect his family.

The door swung open and a creature of ivory skin, midnight hair and feral lust slunk into the room like a wildcat on the prowl. She crept toward him, the door swinging shut behind her, her bare feet silent on the thick carpet. Crouching low, he growled and moved toward her, fully aroused and ready. His muscles bunched under his skin as they circled one another. Gohan recognized her and a cruel smirk played over his lips. His daughter was in full heat, her body aching to be filled. He could see the wildness in her eyes and he knew she didn’t recognize him. She saw nothing through the haze of lust other than that he was male and he was Saiyajin. She may not have finished the ningen off that morning, but she was a Saiyajin and her body was no longer going to allow her to deny any part of that heritage - and neither was Gohan.

His hand shot out and grabbed the back of her neck, yanking her to him and crushing his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. She growled low in her throat and returned the kiss, her nails digging into his shoulders for the sheer purpose of drawing blood. The scent struck them both and further heated the lust raging between them. Gohan shoved her back, against the wall, her body making an imprint in the flimsy drywall; she didn’t notice, merely wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her body screaming to have him inside her. One hand gripped her camisole and tore it away with a single tug. Her panties followed, fluttering, forgotten and in shreds to the floor. Without preamble, Gohan plunged into the wet heat and Pan cried out, in pain and pleasure, as her body stretched to accommodate his size.

Gohan grunted at the tightness, the hot walls pressing around him. He could see the claim scar clearly enough, could see and smell that it was Vejita’s, but the prince had apparently only gotten to her once. She also had not known how or been allowed to return the claim. She was bound to the Saiyajin no Ouji, as was Gokou, but Vejita was bound to none. Pan snarled as her nails left bloody furrows down her father’s back. He pounded into her, slamming her backside against the wall, over and over, until she screamed her release, her body arching with enough force to throw them away from the wall and onto the carpet. Gohan grabbed her hips and thrust deeply into her once more as he came, his fingers digging into her flesh, drawing blood as her body pulsed around him.

She opened her eyes, black as death and glazed with lust and he reacted without thought, burying his teeth into the soft flesh of her throat, tearing into the unmarked side of her neck. She shrieked and raised her head. Her teeth sank into the side of his neck, right over Piccolo’s bite-mark.

~*~

In the gravity room, the Saiyajin no Ouji paused with a wince. Sweat ran down the curves of his body, trying vainly to cool off his raging blood. Thoughts ran rapidly through his mind as the pain seemingly exploded inside his head.

Vejita clasped his hands to his head and dropped to his knees with a snarl of anguish. It was the bond with Pan. He didn’t care about her in any real sense, but she belonged solely to him and no one touched what was his. Climbing to his feet, darted from the room and toward the stairs to kill whoever it was that was fucking Pan.

~*~

As Gohan thrust into Pan’s heat, Piccolo cried out, stepping back from the isolation tank where Bulma’s corpse was floating, the blue-green liquid turning black from the blood that was still draining from her wounds. A low growl rose in Piccolo’s throat and he moved toward the door to the basement, but before he could get there, a sharp pain pierced his brain and he stopped, taking a deep breath to regain his equilibrium. A new thread had been added to the bond in his head. Gohan had claimed yet another Saiyajin and if Piccolo wasn’t mistaken, it was Pan.

~*~