Originally posted to Tumblr and Deviantart as a gift for the 2014 Holiday Harbinger / Secret Santa gift exchange. As I recall, my giftee requested their Shepard being high as a kite C:
For all the ways Thane promotes himself as a skilled master of combat, Shepard thinks to herself that his greatest weapon is his mouth.
She loves kissing him. His lips close over hers and he tastes like warmth and comfort and home. He's entirely too good at what he does - reducing her to a quivering mess with jelly legs and stars behind her eyes. His tongue is slow and sure, never shy but never forceful. As strong and soothing as the currents of the sea.
It's the kiss that always does her in. She's floating by the time they make it to the bedroom, clinging to his shoulders like she'll drift away if she even thinks about letting him go. He lowers her gently to the bed to lose his jacket and she whimpers at the loss of him, however brief it may be. He returns to pull himself over her in only a moment. Steady hands pull her hair free of its disciplined bun, massaging her scalp.
His jumpsuit isn't complicated. She didn't think she would ever find jumpsuits attractive in any way, but this one suits Thane just fine. Tight and ergonomic, clinging to his body like it was painted on. She delights in it, in fact, pulling down his zipper, dragging it slowly to where it stops at his navel before pushing her hands impatiently beneath the material. In her haze, he feels like a space heater. His warmth seeps in through her fingers and into her core, warming her like a strong drink. She runs her hands up the scales of his back and the thick straps slip over his shoulders, leaving the garment around his hips.
He pulls from her again, dragging her pants down her legs as he goes, disrobing himself, further disrobing her, unraveling her as his scales meet her skin finally when they're both free of those last material barriers - and this is where the fun really begins.
The deadly, lethal weapon that is his mouth wanders down her neck, leaving marks over her pulse and shoulder and breasts. He kisses the insides of her wrists, the tips of her fingers, the hard curves of her hips. As his saliva dries on her skin, she flies higher and higher and oh- he hasn't even touched her yet. She shakes when he reaches her thighs, hands sliding outright indecently down her hips, parting her legs, his hot breath cooling on her skin. Head in the clouds, she whimpers at the power of him, burning like the irresistible temptation he is.
She's lost when his tongue finally meets her eager, heated flesh. Her vision swims so she shuts her eyes, assailed by fireworks of sensation erupting at her core. He reins a tight leash on her arousal, bringing her closer and closer to that white-hot precipice before dragging her back again and again. Thick fingers tease her entrance, circling, pushing slowly inside as he laves her clit with lazy strokes of his tongue. Fingers splay over his scalp and she chokes on her sharp gasps, moaning, crying his name, wanting with everything she is for this goddamn tease to just finish it, send her flying over the edge
He licks a long, slow line up her slit before climbing over her. She grasps at him, desperate, legs quivering as they curl around his thighs and his ridged cock slides over her sex. His lips fold over hers in the sparkling, brightly lit land of her euphoria. She writhes in his arms. All the sensation in the world can't be enough in this liquid headspace, cocooned by heat and pleasure. Large hands close over her breasts and he indulges her, rocking against her slick heat. His prick slides achingly slow over her swollen flesh, each ridge dragging over her clit, bathing her in wave after wave of sensation. Her climax comes too easily, hitting her like a freight train, and when she squeezes her eyes shut, she misses how the corner of his mouth turns up in a smug smile.
Still shaking from the aftershocks, she tilts her hips upward and finally, he sinks into her. The feeling is exquisite. He shines atop her, glistening, greens cycling, fading, intensifying across his body as he finds his pace. Her eyes are glazed over, gazing at him and seeing but not really seeing. For only a moment, she sees galaxies in his eyes, spinning and whirling, as vast and deep as the Encompassing. And then she's crying out, clinging to him because he's lifting her just slightly off the bed and the new angle feels beyond incredible. His arms protectively around her, he kisses her hard enough to swallow her wails of ecstasy.
He spends himself within her and the effect leaves her feeling tingly all over, especially in their more intimate points of contact. He's lowering her to the bed, stroking her hair, kissing her with such softness, as though she'll break if he so much as breathes on her wrong.
As the sweat cools on her body, she feels almost minty, swears she can see steam rising like twinkling stars off of her skin. Thane crawls up to lay next to her. She can feel his rapid heartbeat cradles her against his warm body. They drift to sleep in the afterglow of their lovemaking, safe in this last bastion of hope in the galaxy.
