The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé
Chapter 25
Leisurely Await the Laboured
Thane asked her about human weddings, wanting to be respectful of her beliefs and traditions.
Shepard counted off human traditions and superstitions on her fingers and toes, then moved on to his. She laughed at the look on his face and told him it didn't matter to her what they did as long as they ended up married.
It all ended up moot, since Liara hijacked the whole affair.
Garrus tried to help her, and he alone probably saved the preparations from being incredibly dull, not that that was his intention. He likely had thought it terribly romantic to have them orbit around a star similar to the Sun despite it being highly radioactive and causing exosuit malfunctions. And placing epinephrine and ipecac injections next to the food was just a precaution – he hadn't meant to imply that everything was toxic.
Grunt tried to organise pit fights to celebrate the induction of a new person into the clan, going so far as to recruit Wrex to the cause. Thane had to promise to participate in the fighting next time they were on Tuchanka to get them to shut it down. Later that night Shepard had to promise that they'd never set foot on Tuchanka again. A pity, as she would have liked to see the fighting, especially were Thane involved.
Thane wasn't entirely sure how to react when Jacob offered to teach him to dance. They eventually settled the matter on the agreement that Jacob would dance with Shepard in his place at the reception, with no hard feelings.
Shepard put her foot down when it came to fluffy white dresses, despite her asari friend's fascination. As a girl she would dream of white silk and chiffon, but in wartime it seemed wasteful and frivolous; people needed to know their admiral had her head in the game. She would wear the peace conference dress and nothing more elaborate.
Kasumi scrounged up a veil from somewhere. The lace looked antique and Shepard had the horrible feeling that she had part of Marie Antionette's wedding gown or something equally priceless. The thief called it a peace offering to stop the string of arm-breakings plaguing her since the first. Shepard cuffed her on the back of her head in thanks.
Thane proved above the influence of a sex-starved primate. The first time she pounced on him during their alone time, he flipped her on her back, spread her legs, pressed her against the bed with full body contact, then told her that since he had the chance to honour her as his wife, he wanted to take it. The sentiment was sweet enough to prevent a full frustration meltdown.
They took time out from wedding planning to make out against the mirrored window of her cabin. He whispered sweet nothings to her that melted her heart and her knees.
They talked about the domesticities of married life. She'd take his name in an official capacity, but all her friends called her Shepard, so there was little point trying to change it for the ship. They'd probably end up living wherever the centre of operations for the UTWB was located. If he had a full transplant or there was a breakthrough in Kepral's research they'd think about cloned children; he didn't want to leave another child fatherless.
Liara had set up what Kasumi termed a 'PR-gasm', inviting the War Board and half of the governments of their influence – she had wisely chosen to inform Shepard of that not in person – and securing its public broadcast throughout the Terminus space. The whole galaxy would be watching their icon enter into a cross-species marriage, a symbol of what the Reapers couldn't destroy – and getting all the political leaders together in a friendly environment didn't hurt her cause. Al-Jilani and any other Westerlund representative were banned from getting near the Shepard.
Kolyat was present with a claim that he was only there for free booze. Having him and his effervescent personality aboard the Shepard was a delight, and Shepard proclaimed that his surly commentary would be a full audio track if they made a vid of the wedding.
Early into the night, Jack, attired in as little as possible to meet the requirements for 'clothed', began picking out 'easy marks' before she was told in no uncertain terms by Garrus that there was to be little to no trouble making. She settled for leering at high ranking diplomats until they spilled their drinks.
Shepard was sure she had at some point been married. But on the observation deck, with the light shining so brightly, Thane looking so sexy and the whole world through a filter of lace, she felt more like she was watching a vid of herself than living the moment. It seemed to pass in a heartbeat. He slid a ring onto her finger and she sighed in satisfaction. He kissed her in front of a hundred people and she was flying.
There was food, seemingly endless speeches full of lofty words like 'auspicious' and 'unification', and, thankfully, plenty to drink. She didn't hit the ryncol – she needed to be wide awake for the night to come.
As most of the guests, unable to stay long into the night, filtered out in small groups and the Shepard crewmen on duty left to their stations, the formal publicity stunt slowly turned into a drunken shindig, with many toasts raised to the happy couple by increasingly inebriated soldiers.
Shepard did end up dancing with Jacob, as well as any other crew member who could keep up with her. She hadn't danced in years, really – perhaps not since Mindoir. It was liberating in her tipsy state to whirl around the room, especially when she caught Thane's eye and saw exactly how much he appreciated the art. She left the boys she had been dancing with giddy, and they ran back to their friends with the proud announcement that they had danced with the Admiral Shepard.
"Damn, Shep, you weren't lying about being able to dance," Kasumi said as Shepard collapsed back into her chair, exhausted and dry-mouthed.
"Told you." She took a long drink of water between heavy breaths, nearly choking as she felt Thane's hand slide up her thigh. She coughed, spluttered, met his eye and flushed vibrantly.
"Uh-oh, krogans on the loose again." Kasumi grinned and pointed to the floor, where Jack had climbed on top of Grunt's shoulders and was wrestling with a crewman in a similar position. She was remind of the wrestling matches she and her friends had at the beach.
She might have disrupted the match, but they looked like they were having fun, and, with Thane's fingers running circles on the sensitive underside of her knee, nothing short of a Reaper showing up could have convinced her to move from that spot. She'd never seen him so happy, so passionate, everything that was usually hidden beneath an iron outer shell was now glowing out of him, and not just because she'd been stealing kisses all night.
"So, Shepard," Garrus said. "How does it feel to be a married woman?"
She racked her brain for an answer that wouldn't sound appallingly sappy. "A lot like being an unmarried woman, only better."
"I wish I could see the look on Alenko's face."
She shoved him, knowing he was only drunk and didn't really hold a grudge against Kaidan. "Don't you start. Just because we didn't part on the best of terms doesn't mean I'm cackling evilly at the thought of him suffering."
"You were always too nice to him," Garrus said, almost sagely save for the slight intoxicated wobble of his head. "If any of the rest of us were that stupid, you would have laughed at us until your sides split or at least knocked us unconscious."
"I tried, remember?" She grinned, nudging Thane. "My gracious husband put me in a death lock."
"Yeah, guess a guy needs to have some hand-to-hand skills to grapple with you, Shepard." There was a mischievous glint in his eye that she might not have tolerated any other day, but her spirits were too high to do more than laugh.
"You know it. He'd need to be a little dexterous, if you know what I mean. Spry. A strong grip. Have a wide stance for good leverage. Then it's all about strength if he wants to get the upper hand, I can be quite nimble – gah!" She cut off with a yelp as Thane squeezed her thigh, effectively ending her little speech and turning her cheeks scarlet.
Garrus laughed, giving her a knowing squint. "You two are perfect for each other."
Thane squeezed her once more, gently. When she met his eyes she found his expression determined and expectant – he wanted to leave, and oh, did she want to join him. She'd talked and drank and danced and put in enough of an appearance, she reasoned. Hell, she'd played the good responsible CO for a year now, it was time to get caveman and drag him to her cabin by his hair... so to speak.
Still, it was going to be fairly embarrassing leaving the room, since her crew would know exactly what they were getting up to. Shepard grinned at her... husband. Her husband. Screw those guys, she wanted the whole damn galaxy to know that she was finally... finally... sleeping with Thane Krios.
"We're out, see you suckers later," she announced.
To a chorus of wolf whistles and childish oohing she grabbed Thane's hand and practically dragged him from the room. She might have attempted to run in her heels if he hadn't taken her by the arm, as if he were escorting her home after a first date. Curse him, his politesse and his ability to make her too mushy to be hot-headed.
They were barely inside the door to her cabin when her back was pressed against the wall, her wrists pinned to the bulkhead and her mouth captured by his.
It wasn't the tender, sweet kiss that Thane always started out with. No, this was the kiss of a man starved, his tongue forcing her lips apart, his knee between her thighs, his hand at the nape of her neck, angling her face to his. She met his fervour with her own, a year of wanting poured into a single kiss, chilli chocolate burning her tongue.
The grinding of his hips was close to drive her mad – he'd never been so forceful with her, and it was turning her on, leaving her sweaty and flustered. Her spine was pressed painfully against the bulkhead, her hair caught behind her back, her thighs aching from holding her weight in that way, and she loved it.
He released her wrists to cup her face, splaying his fingers along her jaw and behind her ears. They broke their kiss, panting, her lips were tingling, her vision wildly colourful.
She rubbed her nose against his, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "Decided I'm not a howling beast?"
"You are." He punctuated his statement by pressing his thigh against her groin, tearing a moan from her. "I can see why human men like this. It is very healthy for the ego."
As if to demonstrate his point he began sucking on the pulse point in her neck, drawing frantic cries from her. She ground against his leg to relieve the rapidly building pressure but to no avail. She tugged at his jacket – she needed his skin against hers now.
"Fuck, Thane..."
He tossed aside the jacket without easing up on her, and ran his newly-freed hands slowly up her ribs, teasing the underside of her breasts.
She pulled at the buckles and straps of his vest, each taught clasp giving way until she forced his shoulders back to allow her to slip it off and see his bare torso for the first time. Her breath left her in a rush. Glorious. This was happening. After so many long nights, restless days of her body aching, her mind wandering, needing more, not knowing if she'd ever get it, this was happening. She tenderly kissed the angry scar that ran the length of his chest, careful not to hurt him. She could feel each of his hard, short breaths rattle beneath his skin.
Her attentions were interrupted by his hands pulling at the fabric of her dress just above her hips. She raised her arms and he removed it in one smooth movement, a groan rattling in his throat as he drank her in – the lingerie Miranda had picked out was barely worthy of the name, just scraps of lace and silk.
"Touch me," he rasped, his own hands finding her waist again.
Shepard nodded, quivering with arousal and anticipation, and slipped a hand between them, rubbing him if only to hear his growl. She could see the trembling in his shoulders, the tension in his arms, his eyes fluttering closed; she knew he was wound up as she, desperate for this ache to be relieved.
His hands traced a jerky line down her back, over her ass and then down her thighs. He pulled her off her feet, resting her weight against the wall for just a moment to whisper in her ear.
"I thank all the gods I can name—" he nibbled her earlobe, "that you are wearing those shoes."
Her whimper was cut off when he whirled her away from the wall, carrying her to the edge of the bed and balancing over her.
Shepard took advantage of this moment of weakness, tightening her knees around his hips, pushing up with one arm and flipping him onto his back. It was all well and good for his ego to be fed by this experience, but she had her own to worry about. Maybe Thane would never truly lose control, never howl to the ceiling like she would, but she wanted to see his calm damaged, and she knew how to do it.
He stared up at her, momentarily dazed, and she rocked her hips against him gently. He reached up to touch her but she slammed his wrists back against the mattress, leaning forward to hiss, "Keep them there."
She trailed her lips down his frill, laved his ridges with an open mouth. Against her bare sternum she could feel a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr begin. She followed the red skin down his collarbone, hands running across his scales, searching for tender spots, her mouth following his coloured scales in a trail down his chest, her luminous poisoned vision highlighting the sensitive scales like a glowing track.
She felt the tightening in his stomach, his muscles clenching under the ministrations of her hands and mouth, his purr growing in volume and vigour. Red stripes lined his abdomen, each tender and begging for her tongue, and she complied, feeling his hips buck against her as she loosened his pants and tugged them down.
A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was about to show him something a drell woman couldn't do.
She looked up at him, meeting his burning eyes, a little confused, a little curious. She dragged his pants down his legs, slowly, teasing, unbuckling his boots on the way. When he lay bare before her she bit down on the inside of his thigh and he hissed, his head falling back against the bed.
"No, Thane, look at me, watch me." She dragged her nails down his hips, dragged her mouth up his thigh. "I want you to remember this."
She ran her tongue over him, smacking her lips at the unexpected, sickly sweet taste, and he groaned deep in his chest. He was breathing so hard that she was almost afraid she might send him into pulmonary arrest again. But his gaze was pleading, wanting more, so she complied, taking him into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.
Thane cried out hoarsely, his hips bucking. Shepard laid her hands flat against his hips to hold him down. He was beautiful underneath her, body stretched and twitching, muscles coiled, her attentions breaking his perfect calm. She moaned with satisfaction, knowing that it would vibrate up the length of him.
Maybe it was the effects of his hallucinogen, but he tasted so good, saccharine and tangy. His breathless moans were shooting down the length of her spine, winding her tighter, and she wanted him so badly she couldn't breathe.
Shepard pulled back, eliciting an involuntary growl of protest, and she smiled. She took pity on him and removed her bra, standing up to slide her panties down her legs, keeping her heels on with a wicked grin. He struggled to sit up, resting his weight on one hand, wrapping his free arm around her waist to guide her into his lap.
Her whole body sighed in relief as she settled into his arms, rough scales teasing her thighs, his heartbeat pounding against her chest, their breathing soon falling in sync. She grasped him by the shoulders and kissed him, achingly sweet; very soon he'd need reminding that she loved him for more than his body.
Shepard reached down, taking firm grasp of him and guiding him to her entrance. She took a deep breath and sunk down.
"Fuck, oh fuck..." she hissed through clenched teeth. It had been so long, and his ridging made him feel so big. A part of her wanted to pull back to avoid the pain, but she was physically unable to stop, a compulsion as strong as breathing forcing her down onto him.
She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, gasping in her ear, holding her as though letting go might kill him. She could have cried from the sensation, drugs fuelling her lust, having him in her, a part of her, not knowing where he ended and she began. He rubbed circles on her lower back, easing her screaming muscles, letting her take him more deeply.
Shepard locked her eyes with his and raised up ever so slightly before driving back down, a broken sob tearing from her lips. She tried to build some kind of rhythm before she went mad from the feeling. It seemed obvious to her now why drell didn't have fast, furious sex. Hyper awareness had her counting his every ridge, feeling them each individually as they slipped inside her again, his perfectly muscled thighs giving her firm leverage; she couldn't go any faster, she couldn't take it.
So she built a slow, steady pace, gasping, sobing against his shoulder, her fingernails digging into his back, wondering if she could survive this, or the tension threatened to break.
"Siha..." he groaned. "I never imagined..."
"Neither did I," she managed and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Her mind was a mess, thoughts circling in on each other, winding into tighter and tighter circles until the world dissolved into flashes of light and colour, the only thought as she rode him was for more, more, more.
Perhaps her state had left her vulnerable, but suddenly her world was turned upside down, sunlight bathing her face, and never righted itself again. He must have been on top of her, she decided, tucking her knees against his ribs to keep from encircling him, digging her spiked heels into his thighs. There was something soft and warm, the blanket, pressed against her back. She was floating, spinning through the air, like someone had turned off the gravity.
He positioned himself and... oh. Someone had done his homework. He wasn't gentle or slow, as she had been. And she didn't care, too far gone to worry about personal injury or even notice the pain of her abused muscles. Just there, right there, more, deeper, now.
The only thing that existed was him, his muscles clenching under her hands, his mouth on her neck, his hips rolling and snapping, deep inside her, all around her, enfolding, encroaching, protecting. She cried out, eyes delirious and searching without focus. His mouth descended to her breast and it was all she could do not to scream.
Too much, it was too much. "Thane... Thane... ah!"
The world turned white as she came, clenching, arching, yelling, her body dissolving into light, her mind thrown to the end of eternity. It went on and on, white hot pleasure replacing her blood, burning through her veins. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, wanting to feel every inch of his body on her skin, pushing onto him harder to make him feel her rapture.
Shepard came down, panting, her eyes wild. She needed him to stop, suddenly so sensitive. But his thrusts were becoming jerky and uncoordinated and instead she held him close to her, steadying herself against the aftershocks, letting him bury his face in her hair. He came with a hoarse shout, his whole body tightening and she moaned again at the feeling.
They collapsed together into an inelegant mess of limbs, shaking and sweating, clinging to each other, not ready to move or speak or think. Her eyes refused to focus but she could just barely make out Thane's smile above her. He was glowing an angelic gold, like a halo, and she sighed with satisfaction.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she said, her voice coming out slurred.
Thane eased himself off her, pressing his hands gingerly against his ribs where her knees had been resting. "Nothing permanent, I think."
"Sorry." She straightened her legs with a pained wince, her whole lower body was aching, and her hips screamed with protest at the movement.
He chuckled with genuine humour. "Don't be."
She felt boneless, totally incapable of moving, but he slid an arm under her back, another under her knees, and ever so gently, almost reverently, lifted her up to lay her down among the pillows. The light from the sun was still shining, the Shepard still orbiting the star, and she curled up against her husband in the yellow light.
"Don't ever try to leave me again," she mumbled against his collarbone.
He kissed her hair, one hand stroking her back. "Never."
You're toxic, I'm slipping under.
With a taste of a poison paradise,
I'm addicted to you,
Don't you know that you're toxic?
"Toxic" - Britney Spears