Part Three- Insatiable
 

 
Never in my room.  Or hers.

    That would make it too personal and befoul our living spaces.  I do not want her scent in my room- in a way that would be torture.  It would force me to count down.  To expect.  And become impatient.

    I am none of these things.  I would only feel that in battle.

    Right now, if there is anything I am 'feeling' it is emptiness.

    I do not care.

    Nothing matters.  Certainly not her.

    There is no such thing as 'us'.

    Only I exist in what I want to exist.  I can leave or break this arrangement whenever I desire.  I need not give warning, explanation, nor apology for my actions.

    I am independent.  And I deal with myself only.

    She does not exist unless I am....in need.

<*><*><*><*>

    Different place every time.

    Either I pick or he does...but never twice in the same place.  Never twice in the same week.

    Wouldn't that count as greedy?  Wouldn't that make us dependent on each other?

    Never.  I will never be a part of that maniac.

    He doesn't want me anyway.

    And why should I?

    Sometimes though, I do feel sorry for him.  He must be lonely, I think, and he must want company once in a while.  No matter how much we deny it, we all want something.  We all have some goal, some ambition to make true.  I find his to be sickening, the idea of having to murder someone to realize your goal is twisted.  To be more powerful I can understand.  That thirst for respect I can comprehend as well.  But I guess it's the way he's lived.

Those moments of sorrow for him pass.   He has a choice now and so whatever he does reflects on what he thinks, what he believes, what he is.

But I think we all have a common purpose:  We don't want to be alone.

    I'm alone right now, but it's alright.  I have the day to keep me busy.  I have work and projects, new ideas to create, new inventions to finalize.  The only problem is the night.  Everything shuts down and there's not much to do...

    That's when I realize that I really am alone.  There's no one to talk to or disagree with.  There's no one to keep me company.  No one to rely on when I really need it.

    In a way, I'm grateful for that night.  Because once a week, I'm not alone.

    Even though.... I feel barren when we're finished...empty when we go back to pretending nothing happened.

    I'm going to end up yearning for him sooner or later...I just hope I can deal with it when I get there...

    You can't rely on Vegeta, I'm not even sure he'll come next week.  The man lives for himself.

Only one thing is precise, only one thing is unquestionable:  This will not last.  I will not be trampled, abused, or hurt.  Not by the Saiyan no Ouji.
 
<*><*><*><*>

    He levitated downward, out of his open window to the ground below.  A cool night had finally decided to grace Capsule Corp and everyone was grateful.

    This is new.

    A small airplane behind the GR.

    He almost smirked. ~ Guess we ran out of places....this should do.... ~

    He grew serious again and proceeded to the door.  This is business, really.  Not pleasure.

    He didn't bother tapping, the door simply slid open and hissed when it closed.  She sat in the back seat, in usual stance.

    Short nightgown, legs wide open.  They didn't acknowledge each other.  In the silence of the night, he removed his boxers and pushed himself in.

    He didn't have to prep her.  She was always ready.

    He grunted, pushing in as deep as he could go before pulling out and driving back in.

    He buried his head in her shoulder as always, listening for the rhythmic beating of her heart.

    She moaned as he drove in especially hard and his attention was brought to her face.

She was flushed, her blue eyes fixed on the ceiling, and her fingernails driven into his thighs.  Her mouth was opened partly, as she panted quietly while her covered chest heaved with every breath.

She turned suddenly and his lips were caught in hers.  He half grunted, half moaned as she bit his bottom lip and slid her slender fingers over his bottom to hold on.  Her ruby lips invited him to know her better, to get a sweeter taste.
 
He groaned, increasing the rhythm while he ripped the nightgown off.  He wanted all of her now.

    And their routine had just changed.

<*> <*> <*> <*>

    We kissed.

    I don't know how it happened or why for that matter, but it did.

    It was dark as always and we're used to it by now- not having to see each other and such- but somehow our lips touched.  It could have been an accident, that I just turned the wrong way, or it could have been on purpose.  He can see better in darkness than I can, maybe he knew I was going to turn and he was already there to meet me.

    But that's stupid.  He wouldn't kiss me.  He wouldn't start something like that.

    Yet he did start something new.  We aren't fucking anymore... we're sleeping together.

<*> <*> <*> <*>

    This is becoming dangerous.

    Not only am I willing to see her more often, we manage to make contact as well.

    During the day, we'll actually see each other.  Day and night.   It is no longer..... avoidance.

    And what's even worse, we talk.

    Not much, maybe a few words or sentences.  But it's more than I want.

    I see her constantly.

    I see her tonight.

<*><*><*><*>

    A clue.  That is all that is needed to get together...

    Where the fuck is she?

    A light.

    Across the compound.

    A lit bathroom.

    There.

 
    She waited quietly behind the counter, hoping that he would pass by in her direction.

    He did.

    She smiled as he opened the bathroom door and then quickly shut it behind him.

    Now to wait.....

He laid impatiently on the tile floor, his eyes closed.  He had stood for a few minutes, but then grew tired and refused to sit on the toilet seat.  The floor was the next best option.

    ~ I could of sworn she'd be here by now.  I do not like to be kept waiting. ~

    The door creaked.

    He knew it was her.

    If he admonished her, it'd look like he cared.  If he let it go, she would get her way.

    He stayed quiet, watching as she undressed.

    He sat up and she turned around, putting a finger to her lips.  "Shh."
 
    He frowned.  No one told him to be quiet!  He was about to speak when she sat in his lap and began to tug off his shorts.

    Her efforts were futile.  He took them off himself.

    She sat in his lap again, this time, pushing him back.  He looked at her in annoyance.

    "Lay."

    He glared and slowly, did as he was told.

    She mounted him, the wet folds touching his member.  She leaned down and kissed along his chest, until she made it to his lower stomach.  Taking his hands, she placed them lightly on her hips, and slid herself in.

    She slid out and then back down, until she covered him completely in her moisture.  She did this a couple of times, developing gradual but powerful strokes.

    His teeth were clenched together and he seemed to hiss in delight.  Before she could react, he had pulled her down and crushed his lips to hers.

They were becoming personal and it was not because of habit..... or need.