Reyes raked a hand through his hair, then glanced at his omni-tool in annoyance as he heard the doors to his private room slide open. The interface displayed the time as 2300 hours. Sighing in disapproval at the interruption, he looked up, ready to blast whichever member of Tartarus's staff he found before him with a few choice words for violating his request for solitude. He felt his eyebrows rise in surprise as he found Sara standing just inside the door, instead. Putting aside the datapad he'd been reading, he shot to his feet. She'd been away for well over a month, and he'd been unaware that she was anywhere near Kadara. It was late, and he'd been stressed, but the sight of her made all of his cares melt away.

She moved toward him with measured steps and he felt himself smile with happy relief. He didn't know what she was doing there, with no squad and no armor, but at that moment, the hows and the whys of it were not nearly as important as the fact that she was actually there.

He reached for her and suddenly she was in his arms, her hands sinking into his hair as she brought her mouth against his. She sank her tongue deep, and he felt a groan rumble through his chest as she stroked her way inside his mouth, kissing him long and hard. He was always hyper-aware of every sensation after such a long separation and in mere seconds he was like a rutting animal, desperate for his mate.

One hand found the wall behind her right shoulder, but as he went to press her up against the paneling with the other, she spun away from him. A sexy smile played on her lips as she took his hand and led him out of his room and into the loud atmosphere of the club.

He took a deep, fortifying breath, readying himself for whatever game she wanted to play. Being toyed with by anyone else would have set his blood to an angry boil, but with Sara, the prospect was compelling and hot.

He followed along as she steered them into the smoke filled air that hung over the interior of the club, across the upper level. Their boots clanged over the metal steps as they went down them and made their way to the dance floor. There was no shortage of patrons, despite the advanced hour, and moving toward a clump of dancing bodies, she let go of his hand, moving into him as she started to sway to the deep rhythm of the bass.

She wanted to dance.

He remembered how reserved she once was, and the very first time he'd pulled her into a dance. She'd resisted him, scowling at the vulnerability and unprofessional aspects of it all. So much had changed. She was filled with confidence after all she'd accomplished across Heleus, and the knowledge of the power she held over him in particular.

Her body moved in a fluid motion, swaying lithely as she shook her hips. She drew all kinds of attention, even within the dim, smoke-laced atmosphere. She was a commanding presence. And she was his.

Forced to respond, he moved into her, his body a perfect compliment to hers.

They were meant for each other, to be there, at that moment, dancing dangerously close to each other. He was a crime lord and she was the Pathfinder. They went hand in glove.

She was teasing him with her sexy body, grinding the softest parts of her against the hardest parts of him, encouraging him to place his hands on her. They exchanged naughty touches, he brushed against a soft breast with his thumb, she slid a hand across his ass before rubbing her crotch against one of his hard thighs. He played along for as long as he could stand it, feeling his blood heat with every touch, every passing moment, the sounds and the feel and the sight of her driving him slowly out of his mind.

She shook her ass, moving into his hard cock, and he leaned his lips close to her ear. "Sara, let's go."

"Not yet," she said simply, her body twisting to the music.

His voice felt thick, heavy with his desire for her. "I want you."

Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled up at him, moving her body so it faced his again. "Not enough, yet," she shouted into the air between them.

He danced close, moving a thigh up between her legs so she could grind against it. He dipped his head down close to the side of her face. "I want to be inside you."

She didn't even acknowledge him this time. She just continued her body's wild movements, hands reaching above her head in abandon.

He moved up behind her again. "Sara."

"Hmm?" she asked almost absently.

"I want to fuck your pussy."

Her eyes moved to his and she lost a step, her expression becoming serious. He'd shocked her and he was glad. As delicious as all this teasing was, it was starting to fray his nerves. He wasn't a patient man to start, and while games could be fun, he was starting to tire of this one.

He moved to her ear again, his hand brushing her hair off her neck. "I want to push my dick deep inside you and make you scream."

She didn't respond, so he kept going.

"I want to feel you squeeze me like a fist as I fill you up with all my cum."

Her mouth fell open, but her body continued to move.

He was unsure of what she was waiting for.

He almost couldn't believe it when she brushed her ass against him again. More teasing touches as she slid a hand over his chest, right over one flat male nipple. He leaned close, and this time, instead of saying something wicked, he softly bit the side of her neck. He heard her gasp, so he set to biting her through her clothing, the top of one narrow shoulder, her upper arm, the tip of one breast, all while she tried to continue her sexy dancing.

He was growing frantic and almost angry in his impatience when she reached down and squeezed his cock through his pants. Then it hit him. He wasn't going to ask anymore; she didn't want him to. Taking her by the upper arm, he pulled her off the dance floor and up the stairs to his room. The doors sealed with a satisfying click behind them. He'd fucked her there before, he'd even been frenzied and impatient before, but it had never felt like this. Pushing her up against the door, he roughly pulled off her trousers, ripping the delicate fabric of her panties in a desperate bid to get at her core. He was dimly aware that he was growling and she was loving it, her face flushed and eyes bright. Falling to his knees, he pushed her folds open with still-gloved fingers, covering her with his mouth.

He didn't want to hurt her, but he wasn't gentle, his tongue a hot brand as he swiped his way over her swollen flesh. Her hands pulled at his hair as he licked firm and deep, wanting to devour her. He speared his tongue inside her, feeling her walls stretch, before losing all of his patience, and drawing his tongue back up her slit in a hard stripe. He covered her clit with his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over her, unrelenting and insistent until she convulsed under his mouth, coming with a sharp cry.

He got to his feet, bracing her back against the wall as he adjusted his clothing only enough to free his cock. He was hard and aching as he took himself in hand, and grabbing ahold of the back of her right thigh, he pulled it up forcefully, sliding his shaft along her soft slick flesh. He slipped along the length of her, getting himself nice and wet before he pushed forward, entering her with a hard thrust. He rocked his hips, bringing her down on him as he forged inside, fighting to gain depth. He set his teeth in the soft skin at her neck as he inched deeper, shuddering as her body sucked him in, welcoming him home. He hilted and grunting his approval, he started to move, their bodies echoing the dance of before, his cock pushing into her hard and fast. She complimented him in the very best way, her strong grip holding him tight, her softness a cushion for his working body. Her movements drove him deeper, sending spirals of sensation throughout his body, shooting electricity up his spine to the tips of his fingers, his entire being an open wound that she soothed, stoking all of his fires until they burned the brightest, then banking them and holding onto him tight when she was all he ever needed. Freeing her skin from his teeth, his head rose, wild eyes meeting hers as he looked into her love-twisted face. He felt her start to tighten around him, her body attuned to everything they did, and pulling her down hard on him, he spilled inside her, feeling the pulses of liquid cover them both inside her wet heat as she contracted sharply around him, her body milking him of everything he was.

His forehead slid to rest against hers, and he felt her hard breaths bathe his face. He slid his thumbs over her open mouth, realizing that he still wore his gloves. Mierda. He hadn't even bothered to undress them properly.

The crisis passed, he was suddenly covered with guilt for his treatment of her.

He gently slipped free of her body, his hands coming down to soothe her legs as she set them beneath her.

"How long can you stay?" he asked, afraid of her answer.

"Two weeks. We're all officially on leave, with orders to stay the hell away from each other. I'm the only person who picked Kadara, so they dropped me off, first."

He felt a grin spread over his face, "Is that so?"

He helped her dress, his mind swimming with fourteen days with her and all the possibilities that notion brought with it.

He wanted to give her everything.

A/N: My... first real attempt at dirty talk (which I'm a total sucker for in other people's writing). I'm blushy about it, but hopeful that it works.

This is the very last of my plotted chapters, so I'm going to tentatively mark this collection complete, for now, although I may add to it as my muse demands. I'm hoping for a future in Mass Effect for Ryder, and I believe that if that happens, there will be more Reyes, thanks to his lovely plot armor, and in that direction lies the bulk of my hope and inspiration. If you have any wicked ideas you'd like me to try my hand at, I'm cautiously open to prompts (which is how the chapter before this one came to be), so don't be shy, let's see what I can do for you! In the meantime, there's a certain Andromeda doctor that's been pulling me in his direction...