Disclaimer:I do not own Shakespeare or any of his works, including Venus and Adonis. Akira Toriyama has not yet adopted me, so I also hold no claim to any of his Dragonball Z characters or stories.
Authorís Notes: Text for characterís thoughts. Text for excerpts from Venus and Adonis (Some of the bardís words are just so perfect!)
Warnings: Sexual content.
Vegeta, believing Bulma was dead, immediately knelt by her side and cradled her head in his strong arms. He lightly slapped her cheeks, bringing a deep blush to them again. He shook her shoulders in an attempt to revive her.
"Goddess! Goddess!" he shouted to her unconsciousness. "Open your eyes, if even to hate me now!"
He leaned his ear to her mouth, listening for a breath. Hearing none, he covered her mouth in his and blew deeply, filling her lungs. He pulled back, watching her chest fall as her body automatically exhaled. He struck her on the cheek again, trying to revive her. He bent her fingers, pinched her arm, anything to bring the life back to her. His hand felt for a pulse with no success, and his furrowed brow softened the slightest bit. His anger fled as quickly as his stallion had earlier, now replaced with remorse and worry. He returned to breath for her, kissing her deeply instead. As she remained in Deathís grip, the prince continued kissing her, tears tumbling freely from his eyes and falling on her cooling cheeks.
"Bulma, wake up," he urged. "I was only trying to protect my heart! I know of your history, taking what you desire, and casting it off when you have had your fill. I am but a mortal, and would protect my heart from pure love such as yours. Forgive me, goddessÖ"
A soft sigh escaped from her slightly parted lips. He paused in his entreaty. Slowly, her two blue eyes opened, fluttering shut once, and then resting fully on his onyx gaze. The shadow of a smile crossed the princeís face as he saw she was out of danger. The goddess caught that look and her heart leapt. As he continued to cradle her head in his lap, they held each otherís gaze for several moments.
"Where am I?" she whispered to him. "In earth or heaven? You killed me once, pray kill me again, sweet prince, that I can again awaken in your arms. What bargain can I make with you for your life-renewing kisses? A thousand kisses buy my heart. You can pay them at your leisure, one by one."
Vegeta sighed. "Goddess, if you owe me any love, consider my youth as the cause of my aloofness. Should I not first know myself before you know me? Look, we have spent the day here. The clouds that now gather in the sky are bidding us to say good-night."
He peered deeply into her eyes and she was surprised to see his face lacking a scowl for the first time.
"Letís both say good-night, then. If you do that, I will grant you your kiss."
"Good night," she whispered, and before Vegeta could say good-bye, she claimed her fee from him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as they moved their heads toward each other.
The kiss was gentle; her lips barely brushing over his. He pulled her closer to him and took control of the embrace. His tongue pressed against her mouth, and she willingly opened herself up to him. Her hands lightly stroked his neck and back, and soft sighs escaped from her throat.
Breathless, the prince pulled away from the kiss. His lips were covered with her heavenly moisture and he ran his tongue across them to gather every drop. When they were dry, however, the desire to taste her again filled his mind and he pressed against her again. Wrapped in each otherís arms, the couple tumbled across the moss-covered ground, never breaking their passionate kiss.
Like a glutton, Bulma fed on him, never getting her fill. Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey. Hands moved of their own accord, searching out the pleasure sites on each. Bulma took all that she could from the prince, though not all that she wanted.
A soft whinny eventually caught their attention. They broke from their kiss and turned their heads in unison to see the wayward stallion standing nearby. It was obvious by his calm demeanor that he had accomplished what he had set out to do with the filly. Vegeta looked at the sky and frowned, and Bulma realized that she could no longer keep him. He had finally accepted her love and had made an attempt to return it; she would do no good if she held him any longer. He stood, free from her arms, and held out his hand to her. She eagerly took it and allowed him to lift her to her feet.
"Farewell, my prince," she smiled at him as they walked hand in hand toward the horse. "Look after my heart that is so tightly encased within your breast."
She stepped back as he gathered the reins and prepared to mount. "Tell me, Loveís master, shall we meet tomorrow?"
"No, goddess," he replied softly. "Tomorrow I will be hunting the boar with my friends."
"The boar!" she gasped, her face suddenly turning that ghostly shade of white once again. She staggered back, a faint sheen of perspiration covering her face. She trembled so fiercely he feared she would again die before him. He rushed to her and she threw her arms around his neck. She fell backward, and he landed directly atop her.
Again they entered into a frenzied embrace, their tongues battling each otherís. With her actions she proved that her love for him was not mere words, yet he would not manage her, although he mount her. Her gown was soon gathered around her waist and one of his hands was nestled between her legs. The other had reached down the neckline of her gown and was softly massaging an alabaster breast. Her own hands were wrapped around his engorged member, loving it, though she wished it were her body doing so.
"Goddess, I must go now!" Panting heavily, Vegeta slowly pushed himself off her as if a massive chain was tied around his neck.
"Well, you would have been gone if you hadnít mentioned tomorrowís hunt," she replied with a fear-filled voice. "Donít let your friends get you into danger. The very mention of the animal caused me to tremble, for because I love you, I fear your death."
The prince gently grasped her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Bulma continued to tremble in his grasp. "I had a horrible vision of an angry boar. It was standing over the gored image of a man like you, his blood staining the ground beneath his lifeless body. Oh, if you must hunt, why donít you go after a fox, or hare, or deer?"
"Hush," he whispered, then leaned down and kissed her nose. "The night is spent, and I am expected to join my friends."
With that, he reluctantly removed her hands from him and walked to his waiting charger.
"I will be fine," he offered once he was sitting in the saddle. "I promise you this, goddess: we will meet again, and soon."
Love stood where he was sitting just a moment ago. Tears again rained down her pale cheeks. Without another word, the prince spurred his mount and rode away from the goddess.
Bulma followed him as long as she could, but the night soon encased him from her sight, as Death would encase the soul. As if she had lost a precious jewel in a storm, Love lay down in the dark, bemoaning the loss of her prince. Her cries grew in volume, and the neighboring caves echoed her grief three-fold. Her despairing wails took on sorrowful words, lamenting about how love makes young men thrall and old men dote, yet still ends up in misery.
And still the choir of echoes answer so.
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