Shepard's Cabin on the Normandy
The Night Before Attacking the Collector Base
Shepard lay with her head resting on Garrus' chest. She closed her eyes as she felt the talon on one of his fingers trace its way down her back, then lower. Her body tingled in response. They had finished the last of the wine what seemed like ages ago; exploring, and at times hungry kisses, punctuating their rather long swigs of wine. It wasn't bad stuff. She had taken dextro histamines hours ago at Mordin's teasing suggestion so she could enjoy the same drink and… other things. Her human flesh was more likely to have adverse reactions to their recreation than his scaly hide.
His mouth had been surprisingly soft. The scales below his nose were impossibly small, a bit like snakeskin. She had been wary of his teeth at first but had learned that feeling them gently scrape the skin of her neck sent a thrill down her spine. He was maddeningly gentle. After a particularly light slow exchange he pulled back a little, chuckling softly.
"What?" She panted. She wasn't sure when she had started breathing heavily.
"I ... I can hear, and feel, your heart beating really really fast, Shepard." His smirk shifted to a look of true concern. "Are - are you ok? Do you need to stop or...?"
"What? No, definitely not." she said. God no she didn't want him to stop. Not now ... maybe not ever ...
"So, it's not a bad thing? It's just... " he paused. "Usually if I'm this close to something with a heartbeat that rapid it's about to die ..."
She snorted. "I'm glad you think so much of yourself. But no. I'm not about to die. It's a good sign in humans." She wanted him bad. The gentleness had been delicious but she wanted more. "And you can stop being so careful, big guy." She said, shifting in his lap so that she was straddling him now, looking down at him ever so slightly. God, Turians were tall. "I'm Commander Shepard, remember? I would have thought you'd fought with me enough by now to know..." she leaned in, her lips hovering beside his left ear, and breathed, "I like it a little rough." He growled. Well I guess that move works on Turians as well.
She pulled back and began kissing him passionately, throwing caution to the wind. His tongue brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. His tongue, Oh, God his tongue. It was long and pointed and the tiniest bit rough. She was very curious to see if she could talk him into seeing what he could do with it. She wasn't sure how that would go over with Turian culture, however.
The interplay of their lips was endless. He tasted sweet and ritch. It was easy to lose herself in kissing him. She definitely hadn't needed the wine to want to do more.
Now as they lay on the bed, however, her body calling out for access to more of his, she was glad of the slight haze of the wine. She was still a smidge nervous. A talon once again snaked down her spine.
"I'm surprised the fleshy aliens around you Turian's aren't full of slashes and holes with those talons" she mused.
His soft laugh rumbled in her ear. She could feel he'd turned his head, his hot breath now stirring her hair slightly. "The really sharp part is sheathable,'' he said, lifting his other hand for her to see. Sure enough, from a hairline crevice in his talon, a razor sharp edge emerged.
"Well that's not fair." she said. "I can only do that if I have an omni-blade."
"It's not that special." He said, "I think you have far more fascinating features."
"...like what?
He laughed again. "Well, from what I've seen so far..." He paused and ran a talon down her jacket again. She'd never hated a garment for its mere existence more in her life. "I am amazed by how hot human's mouths are...I literally mean temperature-wise. Although yours is very sexy, too. But...yeah. And...I'm honestly fascinated by your hair." He stroked it. "It's like catching the wind in your hands."
She took the hand he'd shown her and held it in her own, stroking and inspecting it gently. He unsheathed a talon again and she ran her finger along the edge. She could feel that the barest pressure would have it splitting skin. She chuckled softly to herself. "These are handy. You can give me a haircut if fighting the Reapers takes too long. Especially since you like playing with it that much." He laughed again.
It was easy, being with him. Lying in his arms, she felt like she'd finally removed her helmet on a stable-atmosphere planet. She considered the talon again. "So ... can this cut through clothing?" she whispered.
Ok, now she could definitely hear his heart beating faster. "We can find out...if that's something you think you would like."
"Oh, I know it's something I'll like." she breathed. She felt him shift the hand that had been stroking her back to the top of her shoulder. She turned her head a little and saw the razor edge of the talon emerge. Gently he drew it along the fabric, across her shoulder and down her back, the fabric tearing soundlessly. It was like a knife through butter. She could feel the tip scraping along her with a feather light touch, the expert killer beside her knowing exactly how much pressure sliced away the fabric and preserved her. When he reached the end of the jacket they were both breathless.
"Come here." he whispered. They kneeled before each other on the bed and he slowly cut away the rest of her clothes. The whisper of his talon and the growing cool caress of the night air on her skin were intoxicating. He'd left her left sleeve and a sliver of fabric hanging across her chest, covering her breasts. Shepard was delighted in her choice not to wear a bra. He nodded at her omni-tool and murmured. "Ok, your turn, Shepard."
She drew her omni-tool down the center of his chest. The fabric of his jacket parted smoothly to reveal a surprisingly soft gray hide with hardened plates of carapace spreading up his chest and across his broad shoulders. She cut the rest away, leaving him toplesss. Then he whispered. "Time to catch up."
He drew a talon down the center of her sternum, slicing the last of her clothes away, leaving her bare breasts hanging heavy in the moonlight. His breath caught. He reached out a hand, his eyes flicking to hers, she nodded and he gently placed a hand on her left breast, drawing his finger delicately across her nipple. Shepard fought to not shiver at his touch.
"I didn't feel this before..." He said, clearly perplexed by the nipples' raised head.
Shepard laughed. "They change when I get cold ... or ... excited. Like that does." She said, nodding to a bulge in his pants. Well males of both species clearly had that in common. He grinned at her and stood at the side of the bed, slipping down his pants. Her mouth went a little dry. Ok, so he definitely had a penis, or at least it was pretty close to a penis. Rather than growing and hanging between his legs, it seemed to have pressed forward and she could see a slight groove in the hardened exoskeleton between his hips where it must have rested. She could see that it was gently ridged along the bottom, with a round shaft, but a head that was almost pyramid shaped. Well that was going to feel interesting.
She stood on the mattress and slid her pants off, leaving her gossamer lace underwear. She walked forward on the bed till she was at the edge, staring down at him. "Why don't you cut these off too?" His eyes glowed and she saw him swallow hard. With two swift strokes that made her pelvis tighten the lacy lingerie fell away and he took a deep breath. Totally worth it.
"More hair?" he marveled softly, entwining his fingers in the curling hair of her bush. He pressed his nose towards it and inhaled. Then with a growl he grabbed her by the hips, laid her against the bed and bent his head between her legs.
She gasped. His breath was hot against her, his lips dragging gently on her labia. He caressed her mound with his mouth, kissing as sweetly as he had her lips. Then his tongue found her lips, it's roughness pulling gently, tantalizingly. She was shivering but on fire inside. His tongue found her clitoris and brushed it repeatedly. Her back arched. He nestled her clitoris between his tongue and lips and sucked. His mouth was hot and deliciously wet; she could feel her body answering with her own moisture. And then his tongue slipped inside.
She cried out as she felt it circling within her. Slowly circling impossibly deeper. She'd had no idea it was that long. Then he began to draw it in and out of her and after a deep breath she felt a strange vibration, like a hum. He pressed his lips to her clitoris and Shepard felt electricity and fire racing across her spine. She was gasping for breath.
He withdrew his tongue and began drawing it across her clitoris, staring hungrily up her torso, and then slipped his long index digit inside her. She cried out in ecstasy as he gently drew it in and out of her, his tongue never ceasing its dance across her clitoris. Every few gasping breaths he swirled his finger deeper till finally she cried out, convulsing for a moment before settling into gasping breaths.
"You are an incredible little species." he rumbled. He was kneeling at the edge of the bed, crossed arms leaning against the mattress as he stared at her from between her spread legs and bent knees.
"Really?" she asked, breathing heavily. "Your species, I am quickly learning, has many unsung virtues. Starting with that wicked thing in your mouth." She let out a long content sigh. "But what's so special about us?"
"Well…" he said softly. "I will reiterate my infatuation with your hair and I am delighted by it's other primary location." He gently trailed a finger through the curling hairs between her legs. She swatted his hand away. She wasn't done trying to breath yet. He laughed. "You are extremely soft, very very wet and hot in all sorts of places. But also… you baffle me. You are pretty small, completely vulnerable, you have none of your own armor, you are very soft..." he said, drawing a finger down one of her legs. She shivered. "...yet you run around causing so much trouble. I don't understand how any of you stay in one piece. No wonder you wear your armor so much."
Moria propped herself up on her elbows, scowling. "Ok, every race needs armor for bullets and stuff. But we're not so soft. We can take a blow or two. We do alright in unarmed combat.'
"Oh sure you do." He pushed himself up and leaned further out over her. "Although Commander, if you're so good at that why have you let yourself be caught on your back like this?"
In a flash Shepard wrapped her legs around the Turian, knocked one of his arms out from under him and, with a twist, rolled the two of them diagonally across the bed, landing on top of him with her forearm against his windpipe. They were both breathing heavily, though the move had not been all that strenuous. Shepard's hair had cacaded forward and was gently tickling his cheek.
"You're cocky, Vakarian," she said. "But I've had you right where I wanted you this whole time…"
"Hot," he croaked, "But not fair. I didn't realize things would be getting that kind of physical."
She released his windpipe, slid off him and went to take a sip of water from a glass at the bar. "I guess big armored Turians can be lazy," she teased, "but us delicate humans have to be ready for anything."
He pushed himself up on his elbows and gave her a lingering look from the bed. The moonlight danced on his silver hide, his scales refracting the starlight. The interplay of light and shadows brought out his muscular form. She took another sip of water but her mouth still felt dry. "There are only a few parts of you I would ever describe as delicate, Shepard," he drawled, "and they would only be delicate in flavor." Ok… her knees did go a little weak at that. She tried to hide her blushing in another sip of water.
He pushed himself up and walked to the empty space at the foot of the bed. "How 'bout a rematch? You got the jump on me that time." he said, stretching his neck. "But, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't offer the lady a dance."
She left the glass on the bar and silently walked forward, coming extremely close to him. Close enough to feel his breath on her face, their noses almost touching. "Oh?" she breathed, "And you think the lady likes to dance?"
He smirked. "I know you, Shepard." he breathed, the smell of him was intoxicating "I know you can't resist an opportunity to show off."
In a flash, her eyes never leaving his, she brought a blow with the back of her right hand to his solar plexus. He caught it in one hand, his eyes ever locked on hers. And grinned. Oh, he had it coming now. Shepard used his hold on her to throw him behind her and then spun, pressing him towards the wall with a series of blows. Each of these he caught or deflected, then returned the volley, the long reach of his arms causing her to need to duck, dash beneath his arms and reverse the direction of their exchange. He was nearing the wall and she saw an opening in his form. She purposely began to leave her left side open. He saw the vulnerability and aimed a low punch for her trap. Simultaneously, she brought a roundhouse kick with her right foot towards his left jaw. She grinned, anticipating the impact- but he caught her foot several inches from his face with his right arm. They remained frozen in that position for a few moments, both breathing heavily. Garrus' back was against the wall and she was balanced on one leg, the other still in his grasp. She could feel that she was wet (and not from his tongue this time) and his penis protruded far from his body
He grinned at her, and with an infuriating, self-satisfied shrug, said "Reach."
She grinned right back, then watched his eyes widen and mouth fall open as she leaned into the split her legs had already begun. She eased forward till her right leg was nearly in line with his torso, their faces now only a fraction of an inch from each other. She ran a finger over his bottom lip and breathed. "Flexibility..."
"Spirits, woman." He growled. He scooped her up in his arms, both of her flexible legs wrapped over his hips. He turned them so that her back was to the wall and slowly slid inside her. His breath was ragged and she could barely breathe. He drew himself in and out of her. She could feel the trailing caress of the little ridges and curling spines inside her, even more ecstasy inducing than his talons on her skin. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, breathing hard. Then, as the rhythm of their bodies built, she found herself biting into the raised carapace collar around his neck, and to her delight, he groaned in pleasure.
She was unlike anything he had ever known before. Every inch of her, especially inside, was unimaginably soft. Yet as his hands roamed her chest, back, arms, legs, waist, and that incredible ass, he could feel the lean wired muscles of the warrior woman in his arms. She was heavily scarred. Her face, like his, had a few nasty ones, but it was clear that her arms and torso had come into contact with their fair share of shrapnel. They were beautiful, though. The raised scar tissue caught the starlight and it was like she had been painted in silver. He was very intrigued with her breasts (they were very similar to the Asari) but he was fascinated by how her alabaster skin caught the light. Her mouth was incredibly soft and hot in a way that made him ache and burn (and he didn't think it was any kind of allergic reaction).
He hadn't believed his eyes when he'd seen the hair between her legs. All the women in the vids he had ... researched ... were hairless there. But this ... this he much preferred. The tight curl there was so fascinating to him. Her hair was usually so straight unless it had been in a bun under her helmet. It shared the same rich red as the rest of her now very tangled mane. She had been thrashing her head quite a bit when he had been between her legs. And oh, the sweetness there. He had just about lost it from the smell alone. But the taste… it's texture, like the most juicy fruit. And she was so wet - on her own accord - he'd hardly had to do any work for that to happen (although he greatly enjoyed covering every conceivable base.) Humans made the most incredible noises, too…
It wasn't just that she was human though. No, it was the way she rolled him across the bed and then cut off his breathing (that was more stimulating than he had anticipated). That wicked grin she kept giving him, that scent of citrus, lilac and gunpowder. He had been terrified at first, quite frankly, so worried about his rough exterior injuring her vulnerable form, but she was a titan in her own right. A predator in every ravenous kiss, a conqueror undulating above him as he lay beneath her, entranced by the hair dancing across her shoulders, with no option but to succumb to her wrath. And with a roar, he did.