Title: Secret of a Kiss

Part: 6/10

Author: MajinSakuko

Email: MajinSakuko @ sms. at (mails with attachment to: MajinSakuko @ yahoo. de)

Beta reader: JamesMarsters15

Disclaimer: Nothing to me, Toriyama everything

Fandom: Dragonball

Pairing / Main-Chara: B / Y and B / V

Rating: R

Genre / s: Lemon, Drama

Spoiler: No

Warning / s: Lemon, Rape

-

“You know how I ... feel about you, don't you ...” Yamcha’s fingers grabbed Bulma’s hand and lightly pressed it over the place on his chest where his heart was beating. His breath came in gusts as he struggled to keep up with her. He put more pressure on her hand because she wasn't looking at him, instead she was staring absently at the wall that was raised in front of her.

Purely mechanical movements, cold, loveless. But it wasn't always like that. Since when did it bother him ... again?

All thoughts ebbed as he climbed, groaning.Colors exploded behind his now closed eyelids and he could feel Bulma pulsing in time with him. A low gasp was all she uttered. What had become of the passionate lover who screamed her feelings out into the world? After his breathing returned to normal, he realized that this woman was someone else.

"What's going on?", Yamcha asked softly and stroked the princess's cheek. He would have liked to run his fingers through her silky strands, but unfortunately she had pinned her hair up. "What's on your mind?"

Bulma slowly ran her hands over her arms as if she was only now realizing that she was naked and that she was freezing. A fine goosebump graced her flawless skin. Then her gaze fell on the man below, who was looking at her with a strange expression. Was it scared? Was it compassion Or even tenderness? Bulma pressed her pale lips tighter together, pulled away from Yamcha and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him while she wrapped a loose sheet around her.

"What ... what is the matter with you now?", Yamcha wanted to know when her behavior became more and more strange and he couldn't make up any sense of it. "Hey," he said reassuringly when she still didn't want to answer and kneeled down behind her to hug her. Tenderly he stroked her still bare shoulders, over her neck to a long hairpin.

"No!" Bulma literally shouted as he touched the cool metal and jerked his head around. Unfortunately, that didn't do what she wanted, instead the needle came off her hairstyle, revealing a significantly shortened strand. The princess buried her face in her hands. "No ..."

Yamcha frowned at the short strand, and then he carefully loosened one needle after the other, since he no longer met any resistance from Bulma, and after a few moments he was able to marvel at the new length of hair. "Why ...?" He could only ask. It was too confusing, she had always been so proud of her long hair, even then ... "I mean ..."
"Get out," whispered Bulma and was additionally muffled by her hands covering her mouth. She lifted her head, tilted it slightly to glimpse over her shoulder out of the corner of her eye, and repeated the word louder and harder. "Get out!"

"But ...", Yamcha wanted to object, but the look in her eyes stopped him. Although it was not easy for him to leave her in such a state, he thought it best to leave now.

"And don't you dare to show up anytime soon, Yamcha."

(+) - (+) - (+)

If only he had previously had the opportunity to train in increased gravity, then this room would not be a problem now, but since it wasn't, he had to face the problem for better or for worse. In time he would get used to the higher gravity, no question about it, but the only question was when. What if it was too late?

Vegeta stared blankly at the ceiling, which he had already looked at extensively.Wasn't it too late already? That of course depended on the definition of the word. Vegeta checked the clock on the wall. Yes, it was too late, far too late. He slid deeper into the darkness that held his heart and soul as the memory returned.

(+) - (FB) - (+)

"No, Shôfu, I just don't want to waste it on you."

Vegeta's eyes widened noticeably when he recognized the cold expression that had replaced the witch's gaze. It had nothing to do with a sick game or desire, all he could see was hate. Sheer hatred and a determination to make his life hell.

"What do I have to see?", Bulma whispered and an icy smile played around her lips as she bent her upper body down until she almost touched Vegeta's nose with her nose. "Am I sniffing ... FEAR? Tell me, Saiyajin, you have the better nose of the two of us." She rubbed her nose lazily against his while she never interrupted eye contact."And what do I have to feel? A tremor?" It was obviously fun to expose Vegeta, but he couldn't defend himself. It was as if she were keeping not only his hands in her vice grip, but also his will and his language skills under lock and key. So there was nothing left for him to do but lie there and let her cruel games go through. As if he didn't have to endure enough of it ...

"Hm ... not that bad ...", Bulma whispered in his ear with a groan as she pressed her pelvis against his loin and made slight circular movements. As an experiment, she licked Vegeta's left earlobe briefly until she sucked it into her mouth and nibbled on it. Grinning inwardly, she watched the goose bumps spreading across the back of his neck. "Are you cold, my poor little Kisama?" She chuckled softly and pulled away from him so that she could look into his eyes again. "Why so quiet?Did you swallow your tongue? It would be a shame, wouldn't it? "Bulma licked Vegeta's lower lip once." Don't you think so? "

A brief moment of complete silence, then her smile faded in a flash, as fast as her right hand, which was not still holding the Saiyajin's two hands over his head, tore Vegeta's half Sentoufuku from his body. The smile did not return either when she slowly and carefully looked at his exposed, bare upper body, apparently trying to memorize every single detail.

With Bulma's hair brushing his chin and her tongue teasing one of his nipples, Vegeta's fighting spirit came back, as did his voice. “How pathetic.” It was his only way out of it all. He had to make her angry, get her to the point that she no longer wanted to touch him. A broken rib or two, cracked bones, bruises or bruises were easier to cope with - especially if you were used to them - than lost self-esteem.

Thanks to years of practice, his facial expression did not reveal any emotion. He would never have thought that he would have to use it in such a situation.

"Pathetic?" Repeated Bulma, mumbling, but she didn't let herself be distracted from her activity. It tasted pretty good, she had to admit that, well, then at least it wouldn't be too bad for her.

"But then again ... by the way you look, I understand why you have to force your bedmates to mate." Vegeta put as much disgust and harshness into his words as he was in his condition. Their efforts were beginning to have an effect, heat building up in his stomach and threatening to spread throughout his body.

Bulma smiled against his skin. "Haven't I told you before that you have to come up with something better to piss me off again? Let me make it clear that you won't escape your personal hell that easily, Kisama."Complacently, she teased him with provocative hip movements before tearing the remaining material from his body. Carefully, she let her gaze slide over his now completely uncovered body, and Vegeta noticed the whole thing as intensely as if she were caressing him.

"You ..."

But Vegeta's words were stifled by Bulma's mouth, whether she wanted to taste him or was tired of his voice was unclear. Her lips were cold and firm, very different from their first kiss.

Vegeta could feel the princess smile against his lips as she raised her pelvis, and he closed his eyes to guard against the inevitable.

The tight dress, which barely covered her perfectly proportioned body, pushed her thighs a little higher, and at the first intimate contact Bulma sighed while she examined Vegeta's facial expression. His clenched jaws and brow furrowed in concentration testified to his struggle against her control.But if it was up to her, he should lose it soon.

She drove him mad, and yet only just on the edge of ecstasy, she played the game with him for seemingly eternities, humiliated him with cold comments, but even a nightmare doesn't last forever. When she had finally found release and was more or less satisfied with her work, she broke away, not in the least touched by the fact that she had not given him the opportunity to finish. * Would be even better if the sticky stuff ran down my thighs ... *, she thought and knelt next to him, savoring the success a little more. Bulma leaned a little closer to Vegeta, whose eyes were still closed, and frowned thoughtfully. Hopefully she hadn't killed him yet? But no, his heart was still beating, his breathing was still - albeit more slowly. He slept? * No *, she thought with a grin. * He passed out ... *

"How pathetic."

(+) - (FB E) - (+)

Bulma inclined her head, frowning. Yamcha should go to hell, he had absolutely no right to talk to her like that and to touch her unsolicited! In addition, the hairstyle looked perfect, trimmed as an amateur, but entirely worthy of a princess. Leaning closer to the mirror, she looked herself in the eye. Blue or green? And what kind of glitter was that she saw in it? Not the same thing she'd seen in Vegeta's eyes. How could she have forgotten that? The cold shine in the eyes of a Saiyan ... the strongest Saiyan?

"No," muttered Bulma, shaking her head. “One time