Disclaimer: Language and sexual situations. I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. This is a Vegeta/Bulma oneshot I wrote as a challenge ages ago. Hope you enjoy!

Too Much to Ask For

A placid morning sun gleamed through the bay kitchen window that the heiress to the Capsule Corp. legacy avoided with a surly grunt as she made it to the coffee maker and pounded the starter button. The aroma of rich Colombian grains wafted up to her face, slowly breathing a new life in her morose expression. She could hear the birds chirping, her mother humming in the living room, and the now constant drone of the Gravity Room buzzing 50 yards away from the kitchen backdoor.

Another all nighter and a long day of paperwork ahead… She mumbled to herself as she yawned and stretched against the kitchen's island, sipping some of the hot black brew she'd poured into her favorite daisy patterned mug.

A raucous explosion tore through the tranquility of the morning and sent Bulma Briefs reeling from the shock to the floor, her coffee mug flying to the back wall and breaking on impact.

"THIS INFERNAL MACHINE!" The shout exploded into the house from the direction of slight shake and loud crash.

Bulma staggered up, glowering daggers at the door straight ahead of her. 3, 2, 1…

"WOMAN!"

I could set my watch to this shit… she sardonically chortled to herself as she placed her hands firmly on her hips and tossed her sea foam colored hair to dangle down her back in a messy ponytail that left rogue strands to fall out and frame her heart shaped face.

As if on her cue, The Prince of All Saiyans stormed through the door, his brows furrowed in agitation and impatience, his face lightly smudged with soot that also stained his ragged royal blue fitted body suit. Wiping at his face with the back of his gloved hand, Vegeta sneered at the blue eyed glare he received, and barked, "What, do earthly females become deaf and dumb in the morning? Did you not hear your piece of crap machine explode during my training again!"

Staring with bored irritation, Bulma clicked her tongue against her teeth as she went to the cabinet and retrieved another coffee mug and refilled her coffee as if just a wayward breeze had come through the door.

"Woman, I order you to fix that load of bolts at ONCE–!"

"I'm very busy Vegeta, so perhaps you should make an appointment. I have more important things to do today," she drawled and took a sip of coffee, inspecting her badly chipping painted nails as Vegeta's stare weighed down on her.

Crossing his arms, he snickered, responding matter-of-factly, "Well, if that leech you call a mate is keeping you preoccupied, I'll just see what your twittering father is up to–" he trailed off when he saw her eyebrow twitch and received a sidelong glare.

"Dammit Vegeta, we are NOT at your every beck and call, and my private life is none of your concern–!"

"Sounds like you need a good lay, if you ask me. By the looks of you, I can see why that's been problematic," he jabbed scathingly, while secretly using the verbal barb as a decoy for his leering stare.

He knew she was far from frumpy; this particular morning the woman chose a tattered Capsule Corp. logoed sleeveless T that clung to her curves and a pair of shredded jean shorts that were an inch away from risqué. It was obvious that she could care less what she looked like in the midst of another princely tirade, and he just loved to take advantage of the situation to see how she would screech at him with those blazing blue eyes and come right back with a verbal jab of her own.

Bulma internally bristled at the insult, but kept her composure as she drawled, "You're one to talk. Seems the only means you have of getting yourself off is eating all our food and training until you blow your brains out, or in this case, the freaking backyard."

He chuckled. "Speaking of food, did your heavily medicated mother remember to go grocery shopping? I'm famished!" he stated with a snarky smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Bulma knew it was now either go hungry all day or simply fix the gravity simulator for the exalted prince. "Alright alright! Let me get my tool box and I'll fix the damned thing, you pain in the ass!" she railed almost comically as she threw her hands up in the air and effectively poured the remnants of her coffee down the drain before slamming the mug down and stalking towards the storage closet down the hall next to her lab.

Vegeta snickered, using her irritation to his advantage yet again as he watched her retreating form sway, focusing mainly on her round backside. In the last few months, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his sexual impulses, but being a seasoned warrior didn't mean he would break down for a fuck on the first urge. However, the supple curves that he was discreetly leering at were a pleasant sight, not that he'd admit it to anyone, of course.

When she began to make her way back to the kitchen, Vegeta took the chance to peek into the fridge for any stray food he failed to gorge himself with earlier that morning. A lonely carton of orange juice remained, with the thick lettering "BULMA'S" practically engraved in black marker etched on the front. He smirked, taking the carton and popping it open.

"I suppose this'll have to do," he said just as Bulma stepped into the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed to vicious slits and her mouth hung in a harsh scoff as he gulped the carton's contents in one shot.

"Yousonofabitch…" she hissed as she stalked past him, making sure to purposely bump the heavy tool box into his hip as she stalked out toward the gravity room. He managed an ill-humored grunt and glowered at her.

"What? I did you a favor, you brat!" He shouted out at her as he tossed the carton on the counter and stalked to catch up to her.

"You're such a pompous ass, Vegeta," she muttered under her breath as she caught sight of the chamber. It faired well on the outside, but when she stepped inside, she immediately knew what the problem was. "You blew the adapter gauge."

"And you bought sour orange juice drowned with pulp. A fair trade," he stated nonchalantly as he came up behind her.

She turned, and glared at him, then harshly dropped the tool box just centimeters from pinching his yellow tipped white boots. "I need room to work, so don't even THINK of crowding me and rushing me to hurry it up," she warned with a hand on her hip and a finger wagging in his face.

"Woman, retract your finger from my face or lose it," he growled, his true temper showing through. Bulma forced a scoff and turned away to access the tools needed for the job out of the box.

She was bent over, leaving his imagination to its sexual machinations as he tried to not let his urges sway his resolve. "Vegeta, I mean it! Give me at least 10 ft of space or the only training you'll get is with the PlayState5," she grumbled snippily as she blindly waved him away.

Huffing, he stalked away from her and stood off to the side, watching as she ducked under a console located in the trap space of the simulators panel. She kept squirming under the panel, as if the culprit she needed to fix was at an odd angle she couldn't comfortably access. She coughed, a puff of soot clouding out of the trap space. She cursed under her breath and slid out from under the panel. Her hands where covered in soot and she had a smudge on the top of her right breast.

Vegeta grumbled tersely; as if he needed another invitation to stare. "Dammit woman, I thought you were supposed to be a genius," he offhandedly quipped as he dipped down and touched his toes, stretching out his sore back muscles.

Bulma growled unintelligibly and poked her head around a series of protruding wires to see Vegeta stretch his arms up over his head, as he snapped his neck free of tension. She bit her lip and stared for far too long as the Saiyan prince stretched a bit more before fisting his thick, gloved fingers into his coarse flame-shaped mane in absent-minded boredom. Just when he glanced over at her, she averted her gaze and stifled a blush as she pretended to be searching for a lost wrench.

Vegeta knew it wasn't his libido playing tricks on him. He could smell her fruity and sweet perfume, and caught a stray scent that was tantalizing as it was enticing. She had ducked back under the panel, and he could hear her fiddling with parts and the wrapping of metal against metal as tools slipped over bolts and joints. He silently walked back to stand just away from her legs, which were tucked up to hold a screwdriver between her knees.

Crouching down, Vegeta easily pulled the tool from the tight grip of her knees and held it out while he feigned boredom.

"You don't follow direction well, do you," she stated with a slight echo from under the panel, sparing a quick peek at what she was eyelevel with from such an angle: his lips and his chest.

He chuckled, gruff, but pleasing to the ear. She spared him another glance. "Now a spry female like yourself who doesn't play by the rules, instructing me to behave. Either you forgot yourself or you forgot who you're addressing so insipidly," he stated in his more gruff impression of a drawl, his lips quirking into that smirk she unfortunately found very appealing on him.

"I know I know. The almighty Prince of ALL Saiyans. You've only said it since the first time you attacked me and the guys–" she paused when she felt the cool tip of the screwdriver skimming the skin outside her knee, before lazily trailing circles up her leg.

She felt her skin tingle from the contact, so sensual but languid. She reached her hand out and snatched the screwdriver, but not before he took hold of her wrist. "Don't mock me, woman." His tone wasn't threatening, but it definitely held a warning in the huskiness it took on. He released her wrist and she jerked it back, relieved that the panel dangled low so it covered her face, because the flush she felt on her cheeks was as incriminating as how she unconsciously clenched her thighs.

Vegeta was the one who was forgetting himself. Urges be damned, when it was clearly obvious he wouldn't mind pulling her out from under the damned simulator console and dominating the hell out of her. It wasn't that she was the nearest female in the vicinity. He actually enjoyed verbally accosting her and suffering her acid-laced barbs back. He had definitely caught himself staring, sure sometimes they were full leers, but others were just…well, stares.

"Dammit..." her muttered hiss caught his attention and he crouched lower to see what she was doing.

"What, broke a nail?" he asked with embellished sarcasm, earning a sigh of frustration from a harried Bulma.

"No, I can't hold this diode board up, switch the gauge off and disconnect it all at the same time…" she stated in an aggravated huff.

"Move."

Before Bulma could protest, Vegeta effectively nudged her against the side of the trap space's wall and reached his hand under the panel and felt for the diode board she was having trouble with.

"Kami you're so impatient! And how are you supposed to feel around with gloves on? Just stop before you screw something else up–!" she chided in irritation, earning an impatient growl from Vegeta.

He jerked his hand out, pulled his thick gloves off, and reached his now bare and calloused hand back under the panel, finding the diode board instantly. "There. Now hurry up and do whatever the hell you must to fix this damned machine!" he tersely spat as he leaned his calf and knee so that it brushed against one of her legs.

That damned blush was back again. Her body was focused on the feel of his skin brushing hers and the body heat he radiated from such close contact. She hurriedly finished the job and announced, "Ok I'm done. Just need to secure the panel back."

He pulled his hand out and allowed her to get to work, except instead of backing away to give her room, he remained crouched right by her. Bulma could barely pay attention to what she was screwing, with her mind flashing to what other things she'd like to screw…

The scent wafted up to him again, so heady and pungent that it made his loins tighten with interest. His eyes were glued to her stomach as the shirt began to ride up to reveal her tight navel and pale, supple skin. Before his mind registered the action, he trailed his fingers over her soft belly, earning a flinch and a sharp intake of breath from Bulma.

"W-what are you doing–!" She gasped out in surprise, but was only answered by warm and thick fingers gliding along her thigh, then languidly circling over to the other thigh. She squirmed, but not away from the touch. Vegeta grunted in a low hum, her scent and her skin so enticing it was taking all he had not to pull her out and mount her. So, he settled for a more intriguing action.

He rubbed his palm along her smooth thigh before slipping it between her legs and rubbing up. Bulma's body shivered and jerked as a small noise escaped her lips. His strong hand forced her thighs slightly apart, allowing him to brush a knuckle firmly against her jean covered crotch. He could feel his erection begin to grow in the confines of the tight bodysuit while he licked his lips and watched the reactions his actions were earning.

"Fuck..." he huffed out in a gruff exhale, pulling his hand away from her quivering thighs.

"Why're you stopping?" Bulma shot anxiously as she shimmied on her back to get out from under the panel. When her shirt got caught on the lifted corner of a tile, Vegeta grabbed the back of her knees and easily pulled her out of the work space, tearing a corner off of the hem of her shirt.

"You want me to continue, do you," he gruffly whispered against her neck before he suckled a spot just under her jaw.

Bulma gripped his shoulders and shimmied to force herself onto his lap. She felt the undeniable bulging erection pressed deftly against his washboard belly and her apex. "That isn't your tail standing stiff, so don't try and be all suave, bub," she muttered against his throat as she tasted his salty skin.

Vegeta growled from low in his chest, a sound so erotic to her it sent a warm spike of yearning into her womb and further down to her core. He gripped the back of her neck, tangling his powerful fingers into her messy sea foam hair as he brought his hot and hungry mouth over hers. The kiss was wild, scorching, but utterly starved for what the other could give. He parted her lips with his hot tongue, twirling around hers and rubbing against each other as he snaked his hand up into her shirt and cupped a perked breast into his calloused palm.

She gasped against his mouth and blushed furiously as he had her straddle his lap and hump his thick and throbbing shaft while he teased her studding nipple. Digging her fingertips into his back, she arched against him and groaned unabashedly, sending Vegeta into a primal need that caused him to growl and tear at her clothes. First to go was her shirt, which he tugged off her and ripped as he pressed her to lay back against the warm metal tile of the gravity simulator floor. He proceeded to strip her of the constricting shorts and made short work of her panties, jerking her shoes away and groaning when she suddenly sat up to meet his clothed chest. She scraped her nails down his sculpted sides and tugged the stretchy body shirt up his chest so she could kiss and lick the definition of his abdomen.

Grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her towards him, Vegeta hoarsely muttered against her lips, "Oh, you have to ask permission to taste, little minx."

Bulma's eyes flared with defiance. "And what's your excuse for getting all hot and heavy, huh?"

"I asked permission, and you conceded." He stated simply with a rugged gleam in his dark ink black eyes.

"I did NO such thing! You got all grabby and now you won't let me do the same with you. You're such a conceited prick–!" He silenced her with a brutally sensual kiss.

Pulling his lips back, he let the tip of his tongue trail her bruised lips before he gruffly mused, "What do you think that caressing was, woman? I wasn't petting you for the hell of it. I brushed my request and you conceded with your protest for me to not stop."

Oh she hated it when he made sense. Furrowing her brows, Bulma haughtily jerked him by the front of his sleeveless stretch shirt and seethed, "Well I refuse to ask permission for what is a common courtesy! Now stop playing your little power games and make those noises you make while I make my way to your stiff cock."

For the first time during the encounter, Vegeta blinked at her and grunted his approval, letting her tugged the shirt off his head before she shoved him to lie on his back. She climbed on top of him to grind down on his hips, her supple and nude form in all its glory before him. He licked his lips as he rubbed her pink and studded nipples with the pads of his thumbs groaning when she took his hand and simulated what she was going to do when she tasted him using his middle finger as the example.

He let her tease him. It was the ultimate test of his control, and he found it to be very lacking, because as soon as she swiveled his tip with her tongue and moaned down on his shaft, Vegeta knew his control was going to splinter if he didn't take the upper hand.

Forcing her on her back, Vegeta hooked her legs over his broad shoulders and laved her moist threshold with his tongue, wantonly tasting her and sending her cries to bounce off the reinforced metallic walls of the simulator. Before she knew it, Bulma was thrashing around desperately wanting to be thrown into desire and ecstasy. The world she knew be damned! She was having hungry, passionate and WILD sex with the Saiyan prince that had riled her up since her first fitful dream of him on Namek. All she could think of was having him sheathed to the hilt within her and feeling him lose control while they grabbed, kissed, and tasted each other madly.

Suddenly, she felt cool damp air between her thighs and she mewled in disappointment.

"Oh fuck…make that sound again," he groaned as he kicked the rest of his constricting attire off and freed his thick member.

"Only if you promise to take me now, dammit!" She gasped in maddened need. He responded by roughly nudging her thighs far apart and pressing his thick tip against her wet entrance. She mewled, clinging to his shoulders and burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as she moaned, "Vegeta please!"

He plunged his shaft into her and roared his moan as she clung desperately to him, gasping and crying out in ecstasy. Vegeta pumped wantonly in and out of her tight heat, grunting and groaning against Bulma's neck while she lifted her hips to meet every single one of his thrusts. Their passion was reaching a zenith of utter desperation as both fed off the pleasure of the other. Vegeta watched Bulma's expression and how her skin was hypersensitive to his every breath, kiss, and nip, while she dug her fingertips into a soft spot on the back of his neck that made him growl so sensually it sounded like a burning purr. They both became frantic in their arousals, so close to climax that they clung to each other and kissed hungrily until Vegeta could no longer control his urge to nip hard against the muscle connecting the slope of her shoulder to her neck. Bulma tensed and grew taut, shouting her climax and moaning his name as she convulsed in rapture and clung desperately to his shaking frame. Her intense orgasm only spurned his own, sending Vegeta into a ravenous need that forced him to roll them both in a sitting position so he could thrust up in abandon, until he climaxed powerfully inside her and tore a gruff groan from his lips.

Both totally spent, they collapsed in a complete tangle, their breaths ragged and both covered in sweat and the after effects of their intense session. Vegeta licked the spot he bit down on in his blind ecstasy, while Bulma nuzzled the side of his head and sighed in sated contentment.

Both hummed in exhaustion and approval, even sparing an extra moment to kiss languidly before they rested against each other on the warm simulator floor.

Bulma sighed again and curled up against Vegeta's side, getting a very pleasant surprise when the usually mercurial Saiyan wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed her against him possessively.

"Mmm…I hate to say it…but you were right," she muttered against his shoulder and neck.

"Hm?" he grunted and glanced down at her.

"I really did need a good lay." She genuinely smiled up at him, so her eyes gleamed like cool blue stones while her kiss-bruised lips quirked appreciatively at his rugged expression of sated bravado.

"Ah. Well it was never a question of right or wrong. Just of when you would stop denying yourself the truth," he stated in a brash but incredibly sexy way that made her giggle instead of get haughty. "Now…" he trailed off slyly.

She looked up at him, wondering if he was going to suggest going another session. "Now what?"

"I'd like a steak, bloody, with all the little extras you humans have to accompany it."

Bulma squinted at him, her lips pulling into a scowl as he lazily looked at her with hooded eyes and a small content smile. "What? Too much to ask for?"

THE END!

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