"Goddamn I love a good fight." Shepard swiped the chit through the slot and a key was dispensed. She licked the blood from the corner of her cracked lip as she looked at Garrus.
"It felt good to take them out." Garrus followed her up the stairs, and as she unlocked the right door, he knocked her back into the room. His pulse was still running hot, the scent of blood and omni-gel lingering, but overridden by the scent of her. She'd started thinking of this mid-battle, huddled in cover together, whispering over the comm about her body in between shots.
The door slid shut behind him as Garrus shucked his armour, talons snapping over hers to help pull it off. Shepard chuckled and turned around, only to be caught by Garrus.
"What, no foreplay?" Shepard breathed, closing her eyes as his hands raked over her curves.
"We're past that." He growled, urging her forward over the bed of the small, seedy room. There was a slatted window that let in the rusty glow of lights from outside, and the bathroom was an open stall in the corner. This was as nice as motels got on Omega.
Garrus only fumbled a moment as he cut down through the back of her undergarments, his other hand freeing himself. Talons up her back, he pinned Shepard to the bed and steadied himself to thrust into her. He huffed out as he felt the warmth around him, and he tugged his helmet off, tossing it back with a clatter as his hips rocked into motion.
Shepard reached out, moaning into the bed as he set into a harsh pace that smacked his rough hips and thigh against her. She'd goaded him the entire fight, talking about the curve of her hips, her wetness, things she wanted to do - all the while, her aim and deadly precision against the terrorizing vorcha had never faded. The denizens of the ward had scarce a moment to offer thanks before Garrus hauled her onto the transport.
Snaking his hands around her, Garrus lifted Shepard up, and she snuck her knees onto the bed, pushing back into him more. A hand over her breast, he tilted her up, other fingers down her abdomen as he thrust. The gasp of pleasure on her lips was met by his own rumble, and he rest his forehead on the back of her head, the ridged plates on his chest preventing anything closer.
Garrus' talons gripped her breast and he hissed her name, feeling her clench about him. He knew he wouldn't last long, but in the moment he didn't care. As she reached to touch herself, he caught her arm, wrapping it against her. She groaned in frustration, and the tension in her body tightened around him.
All too much, Garrus clutched her to him, his hips flowing into erratic haste as the pleasurable relief washed through him. He gasped out, the sound rasped, and his talon broke through the skin.
Lifting his knee onto the bed beside her, Garrus pulled out and collapsed onto the bed beside Shepard, still possessively holding her to him.
Shepard blinked lengthily, licking her lips as she tried to catch her breath. Between her legs stung, raw and sensitive to the fluid there, foreign and incompatible. She'd grown more used to it - and something about the ache was satisfying.
Grip loosed, Garrus adjusted his arms to embrace her to him, breathing roughly, all the different scents of her skin and body in the air. Something drew his mouth over the curve of words on the bottom of her neck, sitting high on her spine just over the small bump of her vertebrae. He'd seen it before, mostly when she was asleep and his light caresses had gone unnoticed.
Shepard twitched slightly at the touch, her body moving back against him, breathing still unhitched and cheeks flushed. Garrus talons moved, dipping down her stomach to between her thighs, touching where he'd prevented her from doing so.
"Non ducor, duco." Shepard whispered, inhaling deeply as he stirred the throb of her unsatisfied lust. The language wasn't in his translator. She reached to touch him in turn, stroking in time with his ovoid little strokes. "I am not led; I lead."
Murmuring his assent, Garrus nipped into her neck and she stiffened, their bodies grinding together for more.