No updates to story, just minor format change.
This is my first story. How far I go with this will depend on feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!
Warning: This story contains mature language and strong sexual content.
Shepard stepped into her apartment, carefully locking the door behind her. She turned from the door and paused, furrowing her brow. Something wasn't right. She quickly unholstered her gun, releasing the safety. As her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness she noted that nothing appeared tampered or out of place. Gun ready she shifted further into the room, eyes scanning intently through the dim. She stole a quick moment to shake away the alcoholic haze, silently cursing herself for downing that last shot of questionable batarian liquor at Chora's Den. As she moved into the bedroom she noted that nothing stirred; she was alone. "Damn alcohol", she huffed. She flicked the safety back on and holstered her gun.
As she turned to leave the room she felt herself suddenly yanked back into a choke hold, her arms expertly pinned behind her back. Her assailant was much taller than she and she was able to glimpse a three fingered taloned hand. Turian. Male. The effects from the alcohol quickly dissipated and were replaced by survival training. Her foe was physically stronger but she was more flexible. As soon as she was able to work her arms free, she threw back her elbow into the turian's sensitive waist region. He growled in pain, loosening his grip around her throat for a split second; it was just enough. Shepard threw her hands up, slipping them between his arm and her neck. She was able to throw her arms out with enough force to release herself and slip out of his grip.
Ducking and rolling forward into the adjacent sitting room, she landed in a crouching position and peered up to face her assailant. He was gone. She instantly reached for her gun. Not there! Shit! She didn't know when he had relieved her of it but now he was far more armed than she. Unsheathing her boot knife she stood, creeping back towards the bedroom, her human eyes attempting to pierce the darkness. Add it to the list of advantages this bastard has over me, she thought bitterly.
Shepard ducked behind the wall, just to the left of the doorway. She could sense him on the opposite side of the wall, could feel his heat and hear the faint brush of plating against armor as his chest rose and fell. Adrenaline surging, she spun herself around the doorframe and leapt onto the turian's back. His reflexes were quick. Before she could press the knife to his throat, he gripped her shirt and tossed her onto the bed. Her back hit the squared headboard hard, knocking the air from her lungs. She heard the turian chuckle and her eyes flicked up to meet his. She felt a mix of rage and relief wash over her as she held the gaze of his cybernetic blue eyes.
"What the fuck!" she growled. "You're lucky I didn't leave you with a real grin spread across your throat. Stupid bastard."
Saren's mandibles flared in amusement as he gave her another calm chuckle. "I'm afraid you hadn't a chance."
"Right… well thanks for scaring the shit out of me anyway. So to what do I owe this pleasure?" After sheathing her knife securely back in her boot, she crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow at him expectantly.
"I had just recently returned to the Citadel to provide my report to the Council regarding my previous assignment," he said flatly. "I heard some interesting news upon my arrival."
"Oh? What news was this?" She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and began removing her black combat boots.
He allowed his eyes to linger on her a few moments before responding. She donned a tight black tank top that clung to her slender curves. His eyes paused at the smooth skin peaking out before her shirt and black and grey camouflage pants met. He could see the taut muscles in her arms flexing as she worked the laces of her boots and he barely repressed a growl of approval. Taking care not to remain silent for too long, lest she mistake him for being distracted, he stated, "I have been informed that you have been selected for Spectre evaluation."
She smirked, peering up at him through a fall of short blonde hair. "Indeed I have," she said, her tone matter-of-a-fact. "Do you oppose?"
"While I do not oppose of you, as an individual, I do however oppose to humanity's attempt to force themselves into power. Initiating a human into the Spectre rank will make humans one step closer to obtaining a seat in the Council. Of this I disapprove," he stated simply.
She wasn't quite sure how to respond to his discontent so she decided it best to turn this discussion around. After a few brief moments of silence she rose to her now bare feet and stalked towards him at the foot of the bed. Her lips quirked into a playful smile and her eyes held a predatory stare.
Saren's work as a Spectre enabled him to read human facial expressions but he never cared to hold this knowledge on a personal level, until meeting Verra Shepard. She was intriguing for a human. He had a genuine dislike for humans, especially after the First Contact War. They couldn't be trusted and they pushed too hard too fast. However, in many ways, this female was different. She interested him. She had a fierce demeanor, a love of the fight, and a sensual way of wielding a weapon... among other things. As his mind wandered he heard a low rumble escape from him.
Shepard slowly closed the gap between them as she heard his guttural growl, her pale green eyes still locked on his blazing blue enhanced cybernetics. "Hmm," she hummed. Moving her hands up over his armor plated chest she gave him a teasing half-smile. "So, Mr. Arterius, are you here to evaluate my skills?"
He straightened at her touch. "I already have... not bad for a human," he purred. "However, there is room for improvement." One thing he both loathed and admired about this woman was her ability to challenge his impeccable control. He wanted her, and she knew it. Everyone had their edge, and she persistently made it her goal to push him over his.
"Well... then how about some one-on-one training?" She leaned into him, her tongue darting out to lick at his mandible as her hands went to work at the straps of his armor.
This drove an approving growl from deep within him. "I believe your training is well overdue, especially if you desire to become a Spectre." He paused a moment, taking in her scent. "This may require an... intense session," he finished. She arched an eyebrow at this, letting his armor fall to the floor and immediately began tugging at the straps of his leg armor. He groaned in frustration and pain as he strained against his leg armor, his plates already having been shifted long ago. His mandibles twitched in relief as the obstructive armor fell to the floor to join its fellow. He reached a taloned hand to her collarbone, tracing lightly, and in one quick motion tore it down the middle of her shirt. His mandibles twitched in anticipation as her breasts sprung free from their restraints. He never before understood human males' infatuation with these mounds of flesh. As far as he was aware only humans and asari possessed these, and they have never interested him before. However he enjoyed her reaction when he touched them, and in that reaction he developed a keen interest. After slipping off his gloves he began moving his palms over her breasts, paying special attention to the small pink nubs. He felt her diminutive fingers brush up under his crest, lightly massaging the sensitive area there. In response, he nuzzled into her neck, letting his rough tongue explore her smooth skin.
Feeling his talons pressed against her hips, she lowered her hands and placed them over his, stopping him from tearing them through her pants. She liked this pair, and would like them to remain unscathed for a while. Over the few months she's known Saren, she has been forced to buy new clothes after each of his returns to the Citadel. After loosening her pants and letting them fall to the floor, he gripped her hips tightly pulling her forward, grinding himself against her. She could feel the swelling heat of him and the burning in her core in response. She lifted her mouth to his, slipping her soft pink tongue into his mouth. His rougher tongue brushed against hers, and they mingled in the wet heat. His talon tore through the last layer of thin fabric that draped her hips, and he heard her groan in anticipation. He didn't disconnect their mouths as he lowered her onto the bed, moving with her. She could feel his talons gently caressing down her body, his movements so precise. He handled her body like he did a weapon; with care and precision and rough when necessary. He settled himself between her long lean legs and positioned himself at her opening. Gripping his sensitive waist, she urged him forward. As he slid into her, her breath hitched. She could feel every ridge and bump as she adjusted to his length. He started slow at first, gently nipping at her neck and shoulder, drawing breathy moans from her.
Her tightened grip on his waste, the way her legs flexed around him, the music of her pants and moans; all were arousing his turian instincts. He never lost control, always remaining poised and clear-thinking, except in the presence of this human woman. He both hated and loved it. He had conditioned himself to never lose himself to emotion or desire, but with her he had sometimes allowed himself the luxury. It felt so good to lose himself within her. Her soft body was so flexible, so strong. He quickened his pace holding the side of her head in his palm. Two of his fingers laced through her sweat damp hair and his taloned thumb caressed her cheek, drawing a thin line of red. His other hand gripped her thigh firmly, his sharp claws piercing her soft human skin. He could hear her breath quicken and feel her body clench around him. He drove into her hard and fast, reveling in her sweet scent and erotic music. He felt her clamp down around his member as she reached her peak; heard her cry his name. It drove him over the edge and he growled low and guttural as he found his release inside her.
For a few moments they lay there, chests heaving. He leaned down to nuzzle the nape of her neck and she gave a contented hum in response. Sliding out of her, he rolled off to the side, feet hitting the floor in one quick movement. He allowed himself a quick moment to take in her satisfied image before reaching for his armor.
Stretching out before him, she peered out at her lover through her thick lashes. Always on the move, she thought. Saren was no cuddler, but would it hurt him so to just relax? Shepard thought to herself. She watched him intently as he gathered his armor, strapping it into place. His pale plates gleamed in the artificial light of the digital clock. She admired the variations in his body's textures; the way his plates shimmered faintly and the muscles that rippled and flexed under the leathery skin.
"Be sure you are prepared to depart the Citadel tomorrow," he said as he clasped the final straps of his armor. "You will be accompanying me on my next mission."
"Hmm." She smirked. "I'm sure the Council isn't aware of all the evaluating that will be involved, are they?" She rose off the bed and stalked up to him, tracing her fingers over his pale unmarked face after closing the distance.
He grasped her hand, removing it from his face and giving her a stern glare. While he enjoyed her touch, he wanted to convey his seriousness. "I will not allow this to interfere with the evaluation. You will be evaluated honestly and without bias."
She leaned in closer to him, brushing her lips against his mandible. "Doesn't mean we can't make the trip more enjoyable," she purred.
Damn her, he thought as he felt his plates shift again. He needed to leave before he threw her down and had his way with her again. In that case, he wouldn't make it out of her apartment before morning. There was still much to prepare. "I must take my leave. We will meet at the spaceport at 0600 Galactic Standard Time. Bring with you any gear required for survival." He was barely finished with his last statement as he turned and headed for the door. As he made his way to the Citadel spaceport he thought on his earlier meeting with the Turian Councilor.
As the door to the Turian Councilor's office swished open, Saren stepped inside, treading up to the pristine desk to stand before the Councilor, keeping at a reasonable distance. "You requested for me, Councilor." It was more of a statement than a question. Saren could easily guess why Valern had requested a personal meeting. It was regarding Verra Shepard, the new candidate for Spectre status, and he knew it pertained to something Valern didn't want to discuss in the presence of the other Council members.
Valern nodded, acknowledging the Spectre before him. He rose to his feet and made his way around to the front of his desk, to stand before Saren. He cleared his throat briefly before beginning. "I speculate that you are aware of the ramifications of human initiation into Spectre status." He paused, though not expecting an answer. "If we accept a human into the Spectre ranks it will open up a clear path for them to pursue a seat on the Council. We cannot allow humans that much influence." Valern began to pace. "I suppose you know of this Alliance bitch," he spat.
Saren repressed a disapproving growl at this insult, and nodded. "I do." Of course he knew of her. He had come to know her very well over the past few months. The first time he had met her had been at Chora's Den. He had often stopped there when docked at the Citadel. The seedy establishment was an exceptional source of news that would not otherwise be gathered in the Presidium. There he blended in easily, and his acute hearing allowed him to collect facts and hearsay from various conversations. One such conversation drew him in that day. He could see the C-Sec officer Chellick, flanked by two humans; a female and a male. The human male was obviously a thug, part of a gang that sold red sand and had a penchant for loathing aliens. The woman was perceptibly human military, donning a skin-tight armored suit and an impressive collection of weapons. He overheard the man spitting threats at the woman, which she coolly responded to by withdrawing her pistol and shooting him in the head. The denizens in closest proximity to them moved away, however all other reaction to this event was lacking, which was not astonishing for Chora's Den. A few approving words were exchanged between Chellick and the woman, the C-Sec officer ending the encounter with an, "I'll take care of it." As she turned from the C-Sec officer, she caught Saren's gaze, staring back at him with clear pale green eyes. The corner of her lips turned up in a half-grin as she shifted to one side, placing a hand on her hip. She held his blazing blue eyes for a moment before strutting up to his table. "Like what you saw, Spectre?" she quipped before inviting herself to take a seat. He didn't question her knowledge of him. This human informed enough. Nor did he turn down her invitation to her apartment after indulging herself in a few drinks. What was to be a one night stand had turned him into a repeat offender over the past few months. Yes, he knew of her. Knew her scent; the curves of her body; the feel of her hands as they caressed his very being…
"Saren Arterius, you know what needs to be done," Valern said, interrupting his thoughts. "Handle this in the same discrete manner as you had with the previous human candidate, David Anderson. These humans must learn their place," he spat as he returned to seat himself behind his desk.