A/N: Fair warning. From here on out we're swimming in smut-infested waters, folks.
Sam heard her own breath hitch raggedly at Shepard's demand, but she was too disembodied to actually feel it. She closed her eyes, seeking refuge from the visual stimulus in an effort to rationally weigh her remaining options.
It's your move, Sammy. Once your hand comes off of this piece, there's no taking it back. Disconnected thoughts flickered rapidly through her mind.
Her family at her Alliance graduation ceremony, faces full of love and pride.
Past lovers, dramatically diverse except for the kindness behind their eyes.
Life on the Normandy, the thrill and terror of dancing on the razor's edge.
Liara's face, obdurate control breaking against a tide of relief.
Shepard's unyielding heat, seared across the surface of her hands.
A host of Reapers, angry red energy laying waste to a smoldering Vancouver skyline.
It was the last image that finally pushed her over the edge, fragile mortality emboldening her to make the move she'd spent the last 24 hours contemplating.
She opened her eyes and met Shepard's stare, unflinching.
"I do want this. Have wanted it since the first time I saw you across the CIC...in full armor, fresh from battle. Not just a dashing warrior, but an actual living legend." She paused, needing time to push back against the tide of embarrassment rising from her confession. Despite her flushed cheeks, her voice was steady as she continued.
"How could I resist? Who could? And you're damn right I have absolutely spent much too much time...dreaming about what it would be like to be with you like this. To touch you. To taste you. To feel you. God help me, but it's true."
Sam watched as a triumphant smile flashed across Shepard's face in the instant before the soldier launched towards her. Sam had heard the crew talk about Shepard's speed on the battlefield, but she never thought she would witness it first hand. She didn't know whether to count herself blessed or cursed.
It was her last coherent thought before Shepard collapsed the entirety of her world into two strong arms and the hot mouth pressed against her own. Shepard's momentum lifted the smaller woman up onto the table, and Sam's legs instinctively wrapped around the other woman's body in an effort to bring her closer.
Sam was on fire, all of her senses working in concert to add fuel to the blaze. Shepard's deep, hungry kisses sent a line of molten heat coursing through her body until it pooled deep within her core. Shepard's lips were soft - but how she wielded them was not. The soldier kissed her like she was a hill that needed to be taken. Focused, determined, and above all else, relentless.
Sam welcomed the less-than-gentle kisses, anticipating the possession foreshadowed by the bruising caress of Shepard's lips and the crushing strength of her embrace. She let out a low groan as Shepard broke off her frontal assault to work her mouth down Sam's neck, briefly pausing to suck lightly at a delicate pulse point.
Shepard's downward progress stalled against the obstacle of Sam's uniform, and she pulled back with a huff. "Less clothes...more skin."
Sam agreed. She disentangled herself from Shepard's embrace to tug at her shirt, but her trembling fingers couldn't seem to work the fasteners. Shepard impatiently joined the effort, and with a few quick, rough tugs divested Sam of both her shirt and tank. Left wearing only her bra, Sam found herself blushing under the commander's unblinking gaze.
Shepard's mouth quirked as she took in the sight before her.
"Why, Specialist...I admit it's been awhile since I graduated from officer training, but I'm pretty sure this..." the commander's voice practically purred as she ran two fingers beneath the dark red lace, fingernails grazing across a stiff nipple "...is against regulation."
Sam's breath hitched at the teasing touch, a flare of desire burning away any self-consciousness she felt about her impulsive wardrobe choice. Her back arched in a bid to increase contact with Shepard's hand as she replied in a husky voice, "Guilty as charged, Commander. But I took a chance that it might distract you just enough to keep me out of the brig. Do you not approve?"
"Oh, I definitely approve. It's almost as sexy as the woman wearing it." Shepard leaned into Sam, nestling her mouth against the specialist's ear as she continued in a low voice. "But still, rules are rules, and I run a tight ship. I'm going to have to think of some sort of punishment for this flagrant infraction." As punctuation, she roughly pinched a nipple through the lace, causing Sam to gasp and buck into the curves pressed against her own.
Shepard resumed her assault across the newly exposed hills and valleys of caramel skin, her mouth and hand working in tandem to overload Sam's senses. Their increasingly labored breaths filled the cabin, harmonizing soft, sporadic sighs with more guttural groans.
Craving an expedition of their own, Sam's hands slipped beneath Shepard's tank top, fingers kneading the soft skin and hard muscle that reflected the commander's contradictions. She lightly trailed her fingernails across the other woman's broad shoulders, biting her lip as she felt a deep shudder run through the soldier, accompanied by a sharp, hissing breath.
Sam enjoyed a brief moment of satisfaction at coaxing such a visceral response out of the commander before being distracted by the sudden contraction of the muscles beneath her fingers. An instant later she let out an involuntary gasp of surprise as powerful arms gathered her up in one swift motion, lifting her at least a full head above the other woman.
Shepard chuckled as she clung to the commander like a tree in a hurricane. Sam marveled at the other woman's strength - she'd never had a lover who could literally crush her. She didn't know whether to be aroused or terrified. She settled on both.
As the specialist looked down into the commander's upturned face, she realized that she must be wearing some trace of alarm underneath her desire, because Shepard met her eyes with a reassuring smile, saying "Don't worry. I've got you."
Sam felt the truth behind those words as she relaxed into the embrace, even as she tried to ignore any possible double meaning behind the words. As the tension ebbed out of the smaller woman, the commander continued with a wicked grin. "Right where I want you, in fact." The specialist let out a small yelp of surprise as she felt a hand sneak up her back where agile fingers unhooked her bra with a quick pinch.
The thought of having Shepard's mouth on her bare, sensitive skin banished the last of Sam's trepidation at hovering several feet above the ground. Flush with anticipation, she impatiently pulled the lace garment off of her shoulders and flung it across the room. An instant later fantasy became reality, and Sam let out a shuddering sigh as the other woman's warm mouth enveloped her velvet flesh.
Shepard's tongue lavished her breast with firm and steady strokes, creating electric sensations that quickly set Sam's upper body undulating in a matching rhythm. The specialist released a string of small moans as she threaded her fingers through Shepard's hair in a futile bid to bring the other woman even closer.
"Oh God...yes" she hissed as Shepard rolled the sensitive flesh against her teeth. "More...more teeth. Can you...ohhhh...bite." Sam felt a whimper threatening to escape as she fervently whispered, "Please."
Sam immediately felt teeth clamp down around her, hard but controlled. The pinch of pain sent renewed ripples of pleasure cascading through her, echoing into dull throbs across her groin. She released a sharp cry and roughly grabbed fistfuls of Shepard's hair, pulling a grunt out of the woman. The harsh touch only spurred Shepard on, and she quickly established a new pattern, alternating between firm bites and gentler licks, interspersed with brief bouts of sucking.
Lost in a lusty haze, Sam couldn't say how long Shepard focused her attention on one dusky nipple before shifting to her other. The neglected nerve endings awakened under the commander's ministrations, starting the cycle of pleasure over again. Writhing in Shepard's iron embrace, her lips moved in an unending string of whispered invocations. As she clenched the fists she'd buried in Shepard's hair, Sam realized she had never truly been "driven wild" until this moment. She felt the stirring of a primal urge to claim or be claimed.
Before she could begin to formulate a plan of action, however, she felt the world shift as Shepard released her nipple and began walking them towards the couch. Sam grasped the arms holding her, feeling the corded muscles flex as Shepard smoothly lowered her onto the leather surface.
For a brief instant Shepard hovered above her before closing the gap between them and claiming her lips with a kiss - this one more languid than her earlier barrage, although no less intense. Sam parted her lips, quickly meeting the probing tongue with her own. The specialist luxuriated in the feeling of the other woman's length pressed firmly against her own, and the influx of sensations coaxed a groan from her throat.
Needing to feel more skin, Sam grabbed the edges of Shepard's tank and tugged it up. The commander briefly released her lips, allowing Sam to peel the fabric off of her body, leaving the soldier's torso clad only in her regulation-issue bra.
As Shepard resumed her relentless exploration of Sam's mouth, the specialist set off on an expedition of her own by sliding her hand up the hard body above her until it discovered a cloth-covered breast. She cupped the firm weight in her hand, gently teasing the tip until she felt it rise to meet her thumb. She gently tweaked the stiff peak, relishing the moan Shepard released into her mouth.
Shepard slipped one leg between her own, and Sam instantly ground her knee against Shepard's center as she sought similar contact for her own throbbing core. The commander briefly bore down against her leg before making a noise that could only be described as a growl. Breaking the kiss, the commander looked at her with hooded eyes as she spoke in a low, rough voice.
"Enough. I need to taste you. Now."
Rising to stand at the end of the couch, the soldier grabbed Sam's thighs and pulled the specialist towards the edge in one swift, possessive motion. Sam swallowed hard as she watched Shepard kneel between her legs and grab her right foot, making quick work of removing her boot and sock. The commander gave her a wolfish grin as she chucked the heavy boot over her shoulder. Sam heard it land somewhere across the room with a dull thud. She repeated the performance with her left boot before bringing her hands to rest on Sam's knees. Shepard paused to rake her eyes across the specialist's prone form, and Sam felt her face flush when piercing green eyes met her own. "Goddamn, Traynor. You're fucking gorgeous."
Before her overclocked brain could formulate a response, Shepard was moving again, running her hands up the length of Sam's legs. A shudder ran through her as the soldier briefly grazed her center on the way to her ultimate destination. Shepard roughly grabbed her waistband, her strong fingers quickly undoing her belt buckle, button, and zipper.
"Lift up," Shepard commanded, and Sam's hips immediately thrust upwards as every instinct she possessed led her to comply. The commander pulled down her trousers and panties as a unit, sliding both garments off of her legs and tossing them carelessly beside her on the floor.
Sam felt a brief flash of irrational annoyance that Shepard hadn't taken the opportunity to properly appreciate her "special occasion" underwear - a completely impractical lace thong that matched her previously-discarded bra. She'd spent a ridiculous amount of time and credits procuring the set on a whim (such luxuries being difficult to secure during wartime), and she felt she deserved at least a few seconds of appreciative leering for her efforts. She was about to vocalize her displeasure when Shepard's husky voice interrupted her thoughts, issuing an order that brought her train of thought to a screeching halt.
"Spread your legs."
Sam finally noticed how Shepard's hands were resting lightly on her thighs, drawing light circles on her skin. Although she was clearly in a position to do so, the soldier made no effort to manipulate Sam's limbs herself. She obviously wanted the specialist to willingly expose her most intimate flesh, and Sam felt her stomach clench as a wave of vulnerability swept through her.
The nervous fluttering in her gut made Sam hesitate to follow Shepard's direction for the first time since she'd committed herself to this course of action. She drew in a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves, seeking reassurance from the desire clearly etched across the commander's face. She studied the other woman's features, watching as Shepard's swollen lips pulled back into a smirk. When the soldier spoke her voice was amused, although an unmistakable thread of steel lay beneath her words.
"I'm waiting. Don't make me repeat myself, Specialist."