A range of emotions filtered through Vegeta's dark eyes. Bulma straightened, watching Vegeta's chiseled profile carefully. He nudged his hips forward, but he was met with a wall of teeth. Bulma's breath caught in her throat as rejection stung in her chest. Vegeta smirked in approval, his upper lip curling over his canines. She took a deep breath, and walked up behind the couch.
I'm a beautiful, intelligent, talented woman.
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Lust for any woman was not on his agenda. After a struggle she slid it open and was rewarded with a barely noticeable shift in temperature. She was basking in the cool air from both the fridge and the freezer, giving Vegeta an unabashed view of the entire length of her body. It was the only thing he deemed worthy on the television to watch. Drowned in sensation, Bulma could hear her rough cries; feel the pounding of Vegeta's flesh into hers. What had he called her? More like three, in fact.