Chapter IV - Resistance is Futile
By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Vegeta wasn't sure how many minutes ticked by as he remained on the floor, haunted by her eyes. So much pain and rage...It seemed like eternity, but it couldn't have been that long because the next thing he remembered was looking up to find Nappa and Radditz by his side, staring at him in wide-eyed stupor. He glanced over at the door, seeing a gaping hole instead, and it registered he hadn't even heard them blast into the room.
I must look like complete shit, he thought next. Saiya-jins were taught from birth not to ever show emotion except arrogance and anger, were trained to slide their faces into an icy mask of stone. This usually happened when their emotions were running their highest. Sometimes, however, events were too astonishing not to react blindly. What had occurred in this room surely qualified for such an event, if the look of blank amazement on both men's faces was any indication. I cannot continue to let them see me like this. I must not lose any more face than I already have.
However, he could feel the regret, the remorse, the desperate need to take back the last few minutes, rise again within him. It came quickly and violently, not allowing him time to take a defensive position. It ate like a sickness at his limbs, his stomach, his heart. The Prince of the Saiya-jins was supposed to have a heart of ice. This one girl had not only chipped at it, but was also melting it. It hadn't evaporated yet, not by a long shot, but definite pools of water were beginning to form at its base. He supposed the feeling ravaging his soul at the moment was guilt, but he'd never felt guilt before, had only heard about it. It was the same way with love; he knew neither emotion.
But with this one girl, he was beginning to expect that he would be feeling both relatively soon and in large quantities.
Then Nappa interrupted his solemn, self-damning reverie. Kneeling at Vegeta's side, he raged, "Who did this, my Prince?!"
Vegeta gestured for the burly man to rise, to move away from him. He didn't need both hulking monkeys crowding him at this point. She's already affecting my opinion of my own race, he though wryly, rising slowly to his feet. His naturally advanced healing powers, enhanced even for a Saiya-jin, were already putting him on the mend, and the pain in his shoulder was barely a dull ache. The glass embedded in his flesh twinkled to the ground in a cloud of shimmering dust, his skin being too tough and impervious for the miniscule shards to penetrate. He stood proud to his full height, already cursing himself for showing weakness before his men, not caring that he wore not a stitch of clothing. However, even injured and nude, he still commanded their full respect.
"In answer to your question, sensei," he said quietly, considering his words carefully, weighing their full import. "She is the one who did this."
All three heads immediately turned to the young woman sprawled on the bed, noticing her uncovered nudity. Shit! Vegeta was perfectly comfortable with his nudity, but definitely not hers in front of any other man.
"Turn your heads!" he snapped as he stalked to the bed. He reached for a sheet to cover her, once again losing his breath just looking at her. A quick ache tightened in his groin. But the price of my lust is too high, he thought, her blue, blue eyes flashing in his mind.
"She blasted me," he said finally, simply, without inflection. "That's how this happened."
"But how?" muttered Nappa. "She's a weakling Chikyuu-jin bitch! I should kill her for this outrage!"
In his anger, the big Saiya-jin began to rapidly power up, but Vegeta blurred before him, his hand around Nappa's throat before the man even had time draw another breath after this threat. The Prince's face was contorted into a twisted, animalistic snarl, his eyes burning with a fierce and primal rage. He held his old trainer in a death grip for over a minute before slowly releasing pressure, neither one of them breathing until this point.
Nappa staggered to his knees as Vegeta stepped back. "Never threaten what is mine unless you mean to challenge me," he whispered, his razor-sharp voice cutting violently into the silence.
Still panting, Nappa could only nod his understanding. Vegeta's attention then turned to Radditz. The other soldier had been quiet throughout the exchange, but he was also a man who weighed his words before speaking and his actions before attacking. It was one of the reasons why, even though conflict was beginning to build between them over the woman, Vegeta still respected the man's opinion.
"Nappa, leave us," he ordered. "Bring me a set of slave bracelets with my seal on them. Fix one with a ki-diffuser chip set to a maximum level of 5,000."
The man rose to his feet, no longer panting, but still red-faced, and left the room, eager to do his lord's bidding. Vegeta once again sought Radditz' gaze, noting with irritation the accusation in the man's dark brown eyes. Here's the beginning, Vegeta thought, regretting the rift dividing the two men. Radditz had somehow developed an attachment to the girl in the short time he'd known her, perhaps a bond as strong and immovable as Vegeta's. He felt the jealousy curl inside him once more, but he quickly pushed it down. Radditz only wanted what was best for Bulma, and Vegeta's way was the only one.
"It must be done," he said firmly.
"Must it, Ouji-sama?" Radditz shot back, his voice a low growl.
Vegeta's body stiffened at the affront of his soldier's doubt. He needed Radditz' cooperation, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to get it. "Yes," he hissed. "It must."
"Really?" came more disbelief. "Are you sure? Is this not just another way to deny her her freedom? Deny her what is hers by rights? She's the Key, not some common palace whore! She deserves to be treated better. But, knowing you as I do, my Prince, you must always have a new toy, preferably one with a little spirit, so that you can bend her, sometimes even break her, to your will!"
Vegeta tensed, his entire body humming with suppressed rage. "You dare to question me?"
Radditz, though he knew he treaded very dangerous ground, nodded. "In this instance, yes, I do." A momentary pause. Then somberly, "She is about the age Amalya would have been, had she not died. She has something of her looks, too. In the eyes. Both of them have...had...blue eyes."
The Prince listened to the words of his faithful vassal, and the truth hit home. Bulma had become Amalya to him, and as such, she was worth dying to protect. The Prince found himself facing regret yet again. Radditz did not have designs on the woman; he only wanted to protect her. Realizing this, Vegeta let go of some of his rage, but not his resolve. He would have his way in this matter.
He sighed. "Radditz, you have always served me well. But your judgment in this issue is clouded."
"And yours isn't...Ouji-sama? Since when did you start thinking with your dick?"
Vegeta's rage swelled again, and he almost lost control of his temper. The man was pushing his limits, more so than any other warrior ever had. However, before he beat the shit out of Radditz, he would get his agreement on this. "Dammit, man! I'm trying to preserve her life! You saw how Nappa reacted. You see the wounds on my chest. She did this! Her power level topped out at 50,000. That's more than most Saiya-jins achieve after a lifetime of intensive training!"
He realized he was shouting now. Radditz, however, seemed unfazed, his face a mask of stony doubt. He knew he had to change tactics. Though he usually didn't give a fuck about what others thought, in this matter he needed another person on side. Perhaps he was still trying to convince himself that he was right in what he was about to subject the woman to. He didn't know. All he knew was that with a significant ki, Bulma's life was in danger, and Vegeta would do anything to protect her, even if it caused her short-term pain.
"Can you feel it?" he inquired, his voice just above a whisper. "She is out there. Faint, but growing stronger as we speak."
Vegeta referred to her ki signature, of course, as Radditz knew. Usually weak sentient beings such as the Chikyuu-jin had such a low reading, that is was just easiest to block them from the peripherals of the mind. The ki was weak and would never grow, thus it was easy to disregard and block. If left unchecked, it would tease the mind, adding more layers of information to sift through, and that could prove to be eventually maddening. Radditz didn't think opening himself up to the woman's ki again would be useful, but he did it anyway. He unlocked the part of his psyche from which flowed his own ki and mentally skimmed the edges of the air.
That was when he felt it. A new ki! As the Prince had said, it was faint, but also growing rapidly. Too rapidly...His gaze swept to the woman's sleeping form, his mind still processing that his body said. How in Hell can a body at rest have a rising ki? It was unheard of. Even Vegeta's ki, the strongest Radditz had ever known, did not rise when he slept.
The prince heard Radditz' sharp hiss of disbelief. He met the stunned warrior's gaze steadily. "There is more of the legend of the Key and the Warrior that is true. My ki will augment hers, just like she does to me. Both of us rising to levels beyond any seen in the last thousand years."
"Yes," he said. "If her power is allowed to grow, she has the potential to become Super Saiya-jin, even though she is of alien blood."
Radditz shook his head, trying to process all this information. "But if she attains Super Saiya-jin, many warriors will not tolerate that..."
Vegeta immediately began nodding, relief washing over him that Radditz was thinking along similar patterns as he. "Yes, yes. Her life would be in danger the moment she stepped foot onto the planet. Even though she's the Key, Saiya-jin arrogance and superiority are too much a part of our society. Not too many would countenance a foreign woman holding so much power. They would kill her first chance they get."
"But she would be too powerful...even for them..."
"Not at first, and probably not for many months. She surged today to a level of power almost half of mine, but she could not sustain it. Her body could not handle the strain. She collapsed. If she does that every time she uses her ki, then she won't survive the first challenger. She will need a vast amount of training in order to attain Super Saiya-jin, for what use would all that power be if she could not control it."
"But does that still constitute the need to put her in chains and under the influence of a diffuser?" Radditz questioned silently.
"Yes. It is for her own protection. Both from those who would harm inside the walls of the palace and those without. Can you imagine what Frieza would do should be learn of her true identity? Every assassin worth his salt would be crawling all over Vegetasei, and I wouldn't be anywhere near her to protect her. They would keep us separated."
Radditz paused long and hard. He had come to think of Bulma as a daughter of sorts. Had even sworn to protect her at court. As Vegeta's slave, he now would be unable to do so. Another warrior never acknowledged or touched the property of another without the permission of her master. He knew the Prince would guard her jealously. But he wasn't sure if that would be any better for Bulma. He had a pretty good idea what had been going on the room before he and Nappa had heard the crash of his body into the glass, felt the incredible energy of a ki beam, even through their sleep in the regen tanks. He now needed to know how the Prince regarded the event.
"But why the sudden spurt? Energy like that only comes through moments of heightened distress," he tried to make sound as nonchalant as possible, but knew he'd failed when Vegeta pinned him in his black gaze.
But just as suddenly as the rage was there, it was gone. Vegeta, for the first time since Radditz had known him, looked uncomfortable, almost guilty even.
After a long pause, the Prince murmured, "I came to this bed intending to claim her. Her body said 'yes', but her mind screamed 'no.' Her fear and pain became too much, and her ki blasted its way free...into me."
Vegeta then seemed to trail off, as if caught in some other memory. Her eyes...dammit, why won't they leave me the fuck alone? But the thoughts of what transpired between him and the woman crept upon. It replayed in his mind over and over. Her moaning and writhing underneath him, him moving inside her, feeling as if he had conquered the world. Saw the flash of realization as she awakened from a to cold, stark reality, the horror of the truth flashing across her beautiful face. His rage when she rejected him, the dark, cold stab of jealousy, driving his need to fully control her, him losing that control, hurting her. Then her rage and pain, building so fast, sending him flying through the air. And her eyes, damning him with their sorrow...
Radditz knew by the change in Vegeta that his Prince had learned something of regret this night. He knew that no words would lessen Vegeta's guilt and pain, only he could do something about it. So, he decided to go along with whatever his lord wanted, at least for now.
"Oujisama?" he said. The next a little louder, "Ouji-sama?!"
Vegeta snapped by to reality, looking dazed for only a moment. "What?"
Radditz bowed his head. "I will help you in whatever you deem necessary."
At that time, Nappa came back into the room, holding two bracelets, one in each hand, out and away from his body, as if they were contaminated.
"It took you long enough," Vegeta snapped. He snatched the bracelets from Nappa, weighing them in his hands, deciding they were not too heavy for Bulma's delicate wrists. The golden bracelets were fashioned in the shape of serpents, with the body circling around, the mouth and tail twining together to form a setting for the identifier stone. The stone showed which type of work a slave did. Green stones were for field slaves, brown stones for those who worked in the mine, white stones for household servants. In Bulma's case, she was to be a concubine, a pleasure slave, thus the stones in her bracelets were the deepest, darkest blood red. The serpent design of the jewelry marked her as Vegeta's.
"And you fixed one of these with a diffuser?" he asked Nappa.
The balding man nodding. "Yes, Ouji-sama. Set to 5,000."
Vegeta smirked, now back into his bad-ass Saiya-jin mode. Asking for Radditz' opinion was one thing; he actually was somewhat intelligent. Nappa was an imbecile, good in a fight, but bad for strategy. The Prince would be damned if he showed anymore weakness in front of Nappa. It would only confuse the poor man.
Walking over to the bed, he attached a bracelet to each of Bulma's slender wrists. He stroked the length of her arm for a moment, loving its velvety smoothness, before laying both arms gently back down on either side of her body.
"Attach!" he said. Bulma's wrists immediately snapped together. "Release!"
Her hands fell back apart. Vegeta made a grunt of satisfaction. The binding, voice-activated magnets in the bracelets seemed to function properly. All slave bracelets were outfitted in this manner. Any Saiya-jin voice could activate the binding or release modes of the bracelets, and such an element was helpful in controlling the large slave population on Vegetasei. Slave uprisings didn't happen often, but every now and then, usually in the more remote areas of the planet, some slaves rebelled. The bracelets acted as handcuffs, reducing a slave's ability to break free. Some slaves were even fitted with binding anklets, but Vegeta didn't feel the need to put these on Bulma...yet.
Turning back to the warriors, he explained what he wanted. "Her identity is not to be revealed. She is merely my pleasure slave, taken as prize after we left Chikyuu. Kakarott is dead; I destroyed him. Then, we decimated the planet. No mention is to be made of this incident until I say so. If either one of you so much as breathes a word of this to anyone, even amongst yourselves, I will kill you both. Do we have an understanding?"
Both men nodded agreement. Radditz didn't even hesitate, and understanding seemed to light his eyes. He would not give Vegeta any problems, for now. However, Radditz did promise to himself that he would look in on the girl from time to time. If he felt she was being mistreated or abused, he would speak to Vegeta.
"Good," the Prince said. "Now leave."
Both soldiers bowed in respect and left. Vegeta stood where he was, looking closely at the sleeping form. Bending over her, he reached out one hand, softly stroking her blue tresses, running a few through his fingers. Gods, do I but want her, he thought. For a fraction of an instant, he thought of throwing everything away. Saying to hell with his duties as Prince, as a Saiya-jin, and wrapping himself in this woman, this goddess, to just be a man, worshipping at her feet.
Then his stomach turned. He was doing it again, allowing this woman's power to overload his senses. He buried his hand in her hair, tightening his grip slightly. "You will bend to my will," he hissed.
"Not a chance in hell, you bastard..." she breathed, finally just waking from her dragonsblood-induced slumber.
Vegeta released her immediately, shame washing over his indiscreet manhandling of her. But she might as well get used it. It was how she would be treated, at least in public, if he was to save face. He had no desire to hurt her, but he would have to use a heavy hand. She was wild and free, something he wasn't used to in a woman, something he found captivating. However, the Court wouldn't admire it. In fact, they'd revile her, finding such open defiance intolerable in a bed slave.
The only way he could preserve his ruse, and her life, was to put fear into her. He grasped her shoulders, hauling her up against the length of her. She 'eeped' in a quiet voice. "Watch what you say, woman, or I'll have you Muted."
She shuddered at their close proximity, but refused to allow herself to be cowed. "What is that? Some barbaric punishment where you remove my tongue?"
Vegeta then became distracted by her mouth, the sensual way it formed words, and of course, the mention of her tongue sent a flurry of erotic thoughts into his head. He threw her back to the bed for fear of losing control.
"No, it doesn't hurt," he answered. "It's a muscle relaxant, designed to numb the throat and larynx muscles, disabling one's speech."
Bulma cringed at the thought. Vegeta saw her fear and was pleased. He never had any attention of Muting her, but it was a good threat. However, his pleasure dissipated when he saw the anger snapping in her eyes. Such fire...
She raised her hands. "What are these? Presents for the Key, in honor of her dignified position?"
His jaw tightened, guilt coursing through him about her unavoidable enslavement. However, his natural arrogance kicked in. "Dignified position? Woman, the only positions you will assume will be either on your knees or on your back!"
He smirked, feeling once again the mighty Prince of the Saiya-jins. His eyes gleamed with lust as they drank in Bulma's rage. She grew disgusted with him, felt herself being driven over the edge. She lunged at him, wanting to rip his eyes out and shred his face.
Vegeta leapt back out of her way, shouting "Attach!"
Bulma's attack lost momentum as her wrists slammed together, and she stumbled, falling right into Vegeta's embrace. He turned her so that her back was plastered against his so he wouldn't get distracted by her eyes.
"Tsk, tsk, little one," he said. "It's not nice to tease the animals." Unable to resist teasing her a little, he drop a kiss on her shoulder, slowly working his way up the column of her neck. His tongue flicked out, caressing the shell of her ear, causing heated tingles to shoot through Bulma's entire body. He nipped the side of her cheek.
"You're right!" Bulma shouted. "You are an animal!"
She slammed her elbow into his stomach, but only felt a sharp jab of pain for her efforts. Vegeta's stomach was rock-hard, and he laughed at her puny struggles. "Whatever this lifetime brings us, it won't be boredom!"
Bulma stilled suddenly like a frightened rabbit. "Lifetime?" she whispered, not wanting to acknowledge his words.
Vegeta stopped laughing, growing more somber by the minute. His only reaction was to nod.
Angry tears burst into Bulma's eyes. "A lifetime spent of you raping me? I'd rather die, thank you very much, even if it's by my own hand."
The Prince became enraged out her outburst. He spun her around, shaking her by the shoulders as he argued, "Woman, you will not die!! If you take your own life, rest assured that I will go back to that backwater hellhole you call home and decimate it, including every living thing."
Bulma's resistance gave out at his point. She collapsed against his chest, too tired and too scared to argue anymore. His arms came up to encircle her. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Little one, I do not know what this is between us. Call it love, passion, whatever you will. It doesn't matter. It can be violent and overwhelming at times, and I find it, you, completely irresistible. But do know this, I will never force your hand against me again."
Bulma raised her head a to look at him, disbelief evident in her eyes. "And why should I believe you?"
"You shouldn't," he responded softly. "I've done nothing to earn your trust. Usually I wouldn't care. With any other woman, I'd rape her over and over again until I'd tired of her. Then I'd kill her or cast her aside, depending on how well she pleased me. You...I could never do that to you."
"Oh, well then. Let's just jump in the sack now and get busy," she snarled. Her sudden anger gave her the means to jerk away from him. She attempted to turn away, but he caught her arm.
"That's not what I meant," he ground out.
"Then what did you mean?"
Vegeta swallowed. He hadn't expected the conversation to this frank. He was admitting things to her he never would have to others. Her ability to make him forget all the walls, all the masks he'd constructed around his true self all these years, was frightening. However, perhaps what was more frightening was that because of those barriers, he wasn't sure who his true self was.
"Look, woman, I know---"
"Bulma," she interrupted softly. "My name is Bulma."
He growled low in annoyance. "Fine, wom-, Bulma. Fine. I just meant that you were not going to suffer at my hands."
Bulma's face contorted with incredulity. She was about to make another smartass remark, but then she looked into his eyes. What she saw in those midnight orbs made her pause. Gone was the selfishness, the arrogance, the cruelty. In its place was pleading, sincerity, and something else she couldn't quite name. Sort of a cross between regret and hope. It was a powerful combination.
"Do you mean that?" she asked, already knowing the answer but needing to him say, just all the same.
"Okay. I believe you," she replied. Holding up her hands, looking pointedly at the conjoined bracelets, she asked, "Why not take these off?"
The bracelets detached, but Vegeta made no move to actually remove them from her wrists. Impatiently, she held up her hands. "Hello? They're not going to jump off by themselves."
Vegeta had to fight to suppress a grin. This woman, Bulma, certainly had spirit. It pleased him very much. The years spent with her would be interesting, to say the least. But then he sobered, realizing she fully expected him to release her from her bonds. Slowly, he pulled her back into his arms. She came without protest, though she remained stiff and aloof.
Leaning his head against hers, as if in sympathy, he murmured, "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" she shot back.
Immediately Bulma struggled again, but he was prepared for that. He tightened his embrace, folding his arms and shoulders protectively around her, trying to keep her from escaping. "Hush, Bulma. If you go arrive on Vegetasei free, someone else will take you. They'll take you because they are stronger, and you are weaker. That is the number one law of my land. Might makes right. I won't release you because I can't stand the thought of someone else owning you."
She'd quieted down, knowing she wasn't going to break free of his iron embrace. "So, I'm just property now?"
"In the eyes of Saiya-jin law, yes. You are my property, my slave, my chattel. I own you and everything about you. You exist through me."
Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and he could feel moisture from her eyes beginning to drip on his flesh. Her crying didn't keep her from asking questions, though. "So what are you going to do with me?"
Vegeta sighed. "That depends on you. If you're good and obey orders, you'll be spoiled rotten. If you rebel and disobey me, I will have to try other means of taming you."
If her back grows any stiffer, it will break, he thought, knowing his words wounded her pride. But she had to face the truth, especially if she wanted to live. He continued describing her new life. "You'll become part of my household, attending to my needs."
He felt her begin to tremble with rage. "Even if I don't want to. Will what happened last night happen every night? Because I'll fight you so hard...Gods, just leave me alone! I want no part of you!"
When she began to struggle again, Vegeta's patience snapped, and the demon that was his rage roared inside him. He flipped her so that her back was melded to his and turned both of them towards an unbroken mirror in one fluid motion.
He clamped his arm around her waist, hauling her up tighter against him. "You are mine, woman! And I'm going to prove it to you!"
Bulma was trembling, knowing she'd gone too far, but too prideful to beg his forgiveness. She kept her mouth shut, but glared at his reflection, defiance and anger blazing in her eyes, turning them into sapphires.
Vegeta noticed her anger, but that only heightened his desire to teach her her place more. "You want no part of me, hmm?" He asked, his breath tickling her ear. "Then why are you flushed with excitement, not white with fear?"
His free hand stroked her face lightly while his tail snaked its way across her torso, flicking the undersides of each breast before brushing against her nipples. She watched her reflection in horror as they immediately puckered into hard, little nubs, and Vegeta grabbed one, rolling it gently its pearly pinkness between his fingers, causing a heavy, warm heat to rise from her center.
She met his gaze in the mirror. He was smirking, his eyes clouded over in obsession. Her own revealed her conflict between anger and pleasure. Gods, I didn't know his tail could be used like this. Bulma had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning. Vegeta saw her struggle between rebellion and submission, and he continued his demonstration.
"I guess you could argue that this room is cold, and your breasts would react that way if cloth swept against them," he murmured. "There is truly only one place to tell how you're feeling this instant, with me. And only me."
His hand moved from her breast to trail above her abdomen, and then lower. His tail followed suit, brushing lightly at the patch of lavender curls nestled at the juncture of her thighs. Then the furry appendage began making small circles on the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
His tail was soon replaced by his fingers, driving her into a frenzy of pent up emotion. When one finger dipped into her folds, she could no longer hold back a moan, and involuntarily, her hips moved down towards his hand. He stroked her a bit, gently at first, but building a steady rhythm.
When he inserted another finger into her, she lost control. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her body tightened in excitement against his. Pleasure was pounding through her veins, so much she didn't think she could contain it. Through her haze of passion, she opened her eyes slightly, looking at Vegeta in the mirror. He returned her gaze as he continued his skilled manipulation of her flesh. In his eyes, she saw triumph, cold and cruel, blazing a torchlight, but she also thought she caught a glimpse of something else. A gentling, a tenderness, as if he actually wanted her to feel pleasure.
However, that thought was lost as the final tidal wave of her climax washed through her, pumping her dry of all her energy. She cried out, and her body hummed with it for several long moments. Finally, as the tremors subsided, she collapsed weakly against Vegeta, allowing him to support her full weight.
Vegeta's hand when to his mouth, where he slowly licked away the proof of her ecstasy. "Mmm," he purred, before turning her head towards his and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
When they broke apart, he whispered, "Never doubt me again."
Bulma's pride wouldn't allow her to capitulate, no matter how much pleasure she had received. "You promised..." she muttered in accusation.
Vegeta chuckled low and cocky. "I promised you I would not force you. I did not promise not to touch you. Besides, I do recall your hands locking around my wrist at one point, urging me faster."
Her face instantly blushed red, and she rolled her head away from him. She couldn't think straight, and it was his fault, of course. She should be trying to escape, to get away from him. But here she was, allowing him to touch her, allowing him to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.
Suddenly, everything became too much for her. She felt fatigued and strained and exhausted. Her pride be damned, she wanted to go home.
"Please," she begged. "Let me go."
Vegeta heard her soft plea and tensed with annoyance. Have I not made it clear that she isn't going anywhere without me, he asked himself. But then he noticed that she really wasn't asking him. She was just staring into nothingness, her body limp and pliant against him. He knew, however, that while she was docile and demure now, later she would be ferocious. He grinned, anticipating their next round already.
Gently turning Bulma in his arms, he scooped her up and cradled her fragile body to his chest. He placed another kiss atop her head as he carried her from the courtesan's den to his own room. She didn't resist at all as he laid her beneath the covers and slid in next to her.
Pulling her back into his embrace, he molded the contours of her softness into his hardness. He knew that she was too tired for any more stimulation, and since they would land on Vegetasei in a few more hours, he let her be, content just to hold her. Then he remembered that he had not answered her earlier plea.
Before allowing himself, too, to drift off into oblivion, he murmured, "Never."
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