Chapter 24: My Battle Power (Patreon)

"D-Don't... don't go..."

Bulma finally spoke up, trying to keep him there.

Oryon looked at her with a half-smile.

"Do you want it?"

Bulma's face flushed crimson instantly. Flustered and furious, she pounded his chest once. "You—you did that on purpose!"

Oryon caught her wrist, his laugh low. "Do you want it or not?"

A tangle of emotions crossed Bulma's face — shame, shyness, embarrassment, awkwardness...

She turned her head aside, looking toward the front door.

She said quietly, "I want it..."

"Can't hear you. Speak up!" Oryon said lazily, digging a finger in his ear.

"...I want it."

Her voice was faint as a mosquito's whine, but it was, at last, a straight answer.

Oryon swept her up into his arms and kissed her deeply.

Bulma's mind went blank with a buzz, and every pent-up feeling in her body broke free at once.

In that moment, she felt her very soul ascend.

Oryon held her tight, and Bulma wrapped her arms around him in turn, her fingers digging into his back.

Unlike Lunch, who kept her nails cropped short for housework.

Bulma's fingers were smooth and manicured, her nails just sharp enough to sting a little — and that faint prick of pain only made it feel better to Oryon.

He held her with one arm while his other hand slid down to support her.

Her full weight hung from him, yet he didn't feel it at all.

Her thighs were noticeably fuller than Lunch's, and she outweighed her by a good ten-odd pounds.

But to a Saiyan, that little bit of extra weight made almost no difference.

If anything, her careful upkeep and fine skin made her feel even softer to the touch.

Bulma, lost in his strong hands and deep kiss, sank into blissful intoxication.

"Mm... mmnh..."

She let go of every shy thought and gave herself over completely.

When the long kiss finally ended, Bulma gasped for breath, gazing at him with hazy eyes, her lips slightly swollen and glistening.

Watching her like this, the amusement in Oryon's eyes deepened.

He carried her to the sofa and leaned in close.

Bulma instinctively shrank back until her spine hit the armrest — there was nowhere left to retreat.

Oryon's fingers slid into her hair, gentle enough to soothe her racing mind.

She could hear her own heartbeat pounding — so this was what people meant by butterflies in the stomach.

She glanced down at the hem of her skirt — if Oryon found out her underwear was already soaked through, wouldn't that be mortifying?

"W-wait a second! You—you're not planning to do it right here, are you?"

Oryon froze for a moment.

She'd already charged to the front line, right on the verge of the final push — and now she was losing her nerve?

So he withdrew his hand.

"Sorry, Bulma.

I got carried away just now — almost mistook you for Lunch and gobbled you right up..."

With that, Oryon straightened his clothes and turned back toward the dining table.

"Good timing, I hadn't even finished eating..."

Bulma froze too.

She lay there on the sofa, hair mussed, collar loosened, her whole body still humming with the afterglow of their closeness.

Her body screamed for more, every cell in her crying out for it to continue.

And yet he'd actually just... stopped?

A wave of frustration surged through her.

Watching Oryon go right back to his meal, Bulma exploded. "Oryon, you jerk!"

He glanced back, one eyebrow arching slightly.

"Weren't you not in the mood?"

Bulma sat up on the sofa, glaring at him, her face burning with anger.

"You—you jerk, you get a girl all worked up and then just stop?

Are you even a man?"

Oryon smiled faintly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? So what do you want, then?"

Bulma's mouth opened, but nothing that came to mind sounded right.

Making her actually say "I want you to keep going" out loud — she'd rather die.

She just sat there, mortified and furious, a wave of hurt welling up until her eyes went red.

"Wahh... wahh..."

Bulma curled up on the sofa and buried her face, crying.

Oryon got up, walked over to the sofa, and gathered her entirely into his arms.

Bulma, cheeks flushed, tears trembling in her eyes, looked pointedly away — anywhere but at him.

Oryon chuckled and flicked her nose gently. "Bulma, you know what?

I love it most when you're like this — wanting it, but too proud to let go..."

Bulma spun her head to glare at him. "You're the one who wants it and won't let go!

Do you seriously not understand girls at all?

Sometimes when a girl says she doesn't want to, that means she does!"

Oryon set down his chopsticks again, walked back to her, and pulled her into his embrace.

Bulma pouted, but a hint of a smile finally broke through.

"That's more like it!"

"Mm..."

Bulma stood no chance against his advances.

Truth be told, though Bulma seemed open-minded and carefree on the surface, she actually had little real experience.

Especially with physical contact — her body still tensed up reflexively.

It was only because Oryon, a seasoned player, knew how to guide and reassure her, that Bulma managed to loosen her mental and physical guard even a little.

Spend time with a dull, tongue-tied man, and he'll lean on being "an honest guy" as an excuse to contradict you at every turn, stifling you until you can barely function.

Being with someone like Oryon, though — someone who catered to you and looked after you at every turn — what girl wouldn't like that?

It was only after being with Oryon that Bulma realized just how different people could be.

Yamcha's brand of scumbaggery was so low-tier — he'd simply lost himself to a pretty face.

Oryon was different. He was clearly operating on a whole other level.

Bulma didn't dig that deep into it, but it felt good — and she knew, deep down, that she was falling for him completely.

The two of them embraced, savoring their time together without restraint.

Before long, Oryon's hands started to wander.

Wanting to show him her most perfect self for the first time, Bulma's face flushed instantly.

She pushed him back a little, shy, and lowered her head.

"L-let's go take a shower first!

I haven't showered in two days, staying at Kame House,

and yesterday I stayed up all night modifying the Scouter — I feel sticky all over right now..."

"The Scouter?"

Only then did Oryon remember Raditz's Scouter.

Maybe he should check his own Power Level before getting intimate with Bulma?

That way, he could gauge how much he'd grown.

"Did you bring the Scouter?" Oryon asked.

Bulma blinked, caught off guard.

What was happening — weren't they about to do the naughty thing right now?

Why was he suddenly asking about the Scouter?

Still, she nodded anyway.

"Mm, I brought it. It's in my toolbox — I haven't packed it into a Hoi-Poi Capsule yet..."

She said this thinking Oryon probably wasn't the type to kill the mood over nothing.

In that short span just now, he'd already stirred her feelings twice — worst case, he'd stir them up again once they were in the shower.

She was actually rather enjoying the emotional payoff Oryon gave her.