Black Magic

oooOooo

Roses.

The smell danced in his nose as Vegeta opened his eyes for the morning. It washed over him, settling in the lines of his skin, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

He rubbed his eyes, stars illusionined behind the darkness, and sat upwards in his bed. A breeze whipped in, running its dewy morning fingers through his fire mane, and brought the smell of soft roses again.

He sighed and looked down to the bundle of a person sleeping beside him. Blue curls glided down her neck the color of cream, and fell onto her shoulders into a perfect pillow. Her short hair flowed around her face like the river at dusk, painting a picture in Vegeta's mind of water lillies and night crickets that lulled him to sleep. He dare not admit its perfection; he didn't need her to dangle his affection for her, or her ethereal features, over his head.

She stirred then, turning over to flash him a dazzling smile that was veiled by sleepiness. She stretched her dainty arms, the highlights in her skin being kissed by the golden sun, and yawned. He watched her carefully, his clairvoyance predicting her words.

"Well good morning, my Prince. "

Well, he was surely wrong.

He scoffed, turning his head away from her. She giggled and propped herself on her elbow, studying the way his jaw tensed.

"What's wrong? Didn't you say that I need to start respecting you and your title more?"

Impudent woman. There was no way that he was going to buy her sudden change of heart at his demands. He relished seeing her aggression spilling onto the irrelevant Earthling, igniting a flame inside of him that he believed to long be extinguished. But directed towards him was another story, especially since he only needed to poke her to end her life.

Yet, in spite of that, he still found himself in her bed nightly, enjoying the sweat that raced down her neck and pooled into the dips of her chest as she panted his name. She was another form of exercise, except one that produced pleasure instead of pain.

Until she began to work her Earthling black magic on him.

Refusing to obide by his 'no conversation' rule. Asking him about his past. His future plans. Speaking to him any sort of way, uncaring in regards to his lineage and title. Snuggling up to his ego and pride and suffocating their cold shells with warmth. He was starting to feel like he wasn't Prince Vegeta, the Shadow Faced Prince, the man who many cowered in fear of.

Now he was simply Vegeta. The man who had recently become aware that his chest rose and fell to a beat; the man who understood wanting to protect something.

And this ocean haired beauty was the cause of it all.

And he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

She smiled at him, sincerely awake this time, and ran her finger over his bronzed chest. He felt his irritation dissipating at her sarcasm.

"Vegeta."

He ignored her, not ready to battle the daily demons of his evil and her good.

She smirked, rising to her knees and straddling his lap. He was taken aback by her action, but had no time to process it as he felt her silken core on his thigh.

"Vegeta... "she practically purred, throwing her arms around his neck, "are you really going to be grumpy this morning?" She bounced lightly, the underside of her thigh rubbing against his member, and he grit his teeth.

"What are you doing Bulma?"

"What's it look like?" She mapped out the constellation of skin that was his chest, running it smoothly down his abs and disappearing into joint meeting of their flesh. She grabbed him softly, running butterfly strokes over his head with her finger. He sucked in a breath of air. "I can't have you being grumpy on me today, especially since we should be celebrating."

" We don't have anything to celebrate, " he replied bitterly, still not looking at her, " I believe that is more suited for Kakarot's son. "

"We're alive and Cell isn't, that's plenty to celebrate," she leaned in closer and whispered against his ear, applying more pressure to the hardening member in her hands, "and if we weren't alive, then we couldn't be enjoying ourselves right now."

He closed his eyes against the growing pleasure that pooled his belly. Damn her and her way of breaking him for this weakness. She had him in the palm of her hand-quite literally- and he was slowly starting to resist the fight to stay there.

And he didn't know if he liked it or not.

She pressed her cherry lips to his neck, sulking the skin softly as her hand quickened its relentless and unforgiving growing pace. She moved her hips against his thigh, marking her territory in the form of her own arousal, and he came undone

Refusing to spill himself in her hand, he flipped her over quickly, her eyes slightly widening at the lighting move. He watched her as he hovered over her, drowning in her pools for eyes and becoming traced by her parted lips. She was beautiful, otherworldly (and he had traveled to many galaxies) and he ignored that pestering feeling in his gut that happened when he stared at her for too long. And soon the voices would arrive, nagging him about how he didn't deserve her.

He shut them up by swallowing her mouth with his own.

He ran his hands down the length her neck, causing her to arch slightly against his careful hands. He dragged down to her breast, running his fingers over her pebbled nipple. She sighed against his mouth, running her tongue along his bottom lip. He broke their kiss, replacing his finger with his tongue. She sighed louder, her words beginning to catch in her throat. He was dissatisfied; he would break her and she would speak the songs of his name.

He lowered his trail, his tongue dancing wickedly against her smooth skin. She writhed in anticipation as his breath lingered over her small patch of hair. He smirked over how easily she was aroused by him, running a finger against her slickened lips. She gasped as he ran his finger over her hardened nub. Not in the mood for a tease, he lapped his tongue over ot, feeling it swell with every flick of his pink snake.

She picked her hips from the bed, running her delicate fingers through his course hair. Soft notes of gratitude spilled from her lips as he drank her, letting his mouth spill all of the secrets that he dare not tell her into her most private of parts.

"Vegeta..." she drooled over his name, dripping from her tongue like fresh honey, and he could taste the desperation. He propped himself up, leaning over her fragile body. From this angle he could see just how much he dominated her; how powerful his stature was in comparison and how he could easily break her.

And he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

He entered her swiftly, smoothly, watching in delight as she arched her back to meet him. He became lost in the haze of her heat, allowing his hands to lose themselves against her flesh. She moaned impatiently, as if they weren't close enough, and rocked her hips with his own.

And she looked at him.

Half lidded eyes that begged and desired and loved. Love. He was confused by it all, for her, for him, but he let his hips ask all the questions that he couldn't be bothered with. She answered him, slapping her thighs against him until the sounds rivaled their moans. Her lips formed over the syllables of his name, and he pounded harder to hear them. Her breasts synched to their rhythm and he bent to run his tongue over a nipple. Cotton candy in his mouth and he cursed for how unfair the pleasure was.

He could feel her close, so close, and he was just about to unravel with her. On a whim, clearly lost in her voodoo, he looked at her face. Swollen lips, cheeks the color of grapefruit, forehead slick with sweat.

A perfect piece of art.

"V-Vegeta...~!" her voice was honey, and he was the greedy fictional bear who needed more of it. He pleaded for it as he thrust his hips inside of her, grabbing her leg to throw it over his shoulder. Her cries deepened, rolling out of her in waves as he felt the surge roll in his chest. He kissed her, wanting to drink in her final cries of bliss and swallow them so that only he could taste the forbidden fruit. She melted under him then, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his neck as she breathed his name against his lips.

It was too much.

It hit him loudly, like unexpected lightning during a summer rain, and he let it suffocate him. The heat was welcoming as it radiated through his skin and he felt himself spill into her with familiarity, like every part of her was his home. The orgasm was blinding, spiritual. He found himself on auto pilot, saying her name in husky grunts as his affection found its home in her core, and he thought in that moment he understood the beauty of every galaxy he had ever witnessed.

He came down, slowly and reluctantly like she was a drug induced high, and collapsed at her side. She giggled dreamily, the glow of after sex settling into her pores, and lay her head on his chest.

"That was...different, " she said, her words sounding detached from her voice and he grunted. " I don't mean in a bad way, far from it trust me, I mean it was... intense." She blinked in remembrance, the corners of her mouth slowly tugging upwards. "What was running through your head? Not that I'm complaining, but... wow Vegeta. Was it like that for you? "

Of course it was.

He didn't think he'd ever come that hard in his life. For the first time, it was more than an orgasm. More than just him. More than just her.

In that moment, they connected. They joined. Something changed between them, just like something was always changing between them.

"I need to shower. I'm dirty. "

And he didn't know if he liked it or not.

oooOooo

A/N:

R&R please friends!