Garrus's body tensed in the depths of sleep, a low growl rumbling in his chest. At first, it was subtle—a warmth spreading beneath his plates, slow and teasing, as if something primal was being coaxed from deep within. His mandibles twitched as the sensations began to swell, awakening a fierce hunger. Heat surged through his veins, nerves set ablaze with raw, animal desire.

The scent of his bondmate filled his senses—intoxicating, maddening. His subvocals thrummed with possessive need, a sound that would make lesser beings cower. He could feel his plates shifting, the tight, controlled edges of his body beginning to pulse, reacting before his brain ever could.

This was when he woke up.

She was sitting on top of him, the realization hit him through the haze of sleep. Garrus gripped her thighs instinctively pressing talons into soft flesh, desperate to confirm she wasn't just a dream. A soft gasp escaped her as she rocked her hips into him slowly, deliberately, the languid movement to prove she was wonderfully, impossibly real. The weight of her, the warmth radiating from her skin—these sensations were too vivid, too intense to be mere phantoms of his imagination.

How did this even happen? How had she managed to coax his plates apart, to draw him out so completely? Merciful spirits, he had no idea. The little minx had found ways to bypass his conscious control, to speak directly to his nature. Even in slumber, his turian form recognized its bondmate, responded to her silent call with ancient, primal certainty. His plates had shifted for her without hesitation, his body offering itself freely to her desires, unable—unwilling—to deny her want.

Now fully awakened to this maddening sensation, the dominant part of his brain screamed at him to seize control—to roll her beneath him, pin her to the mattress with his keel bone, and claim her as the turian way demanded. Mount her properly, take her hard. Strip away the power she'd claimed while straddling him, reduce her to nothing but desperate cries and shuddering pleasure. But he fought these possessive urges, forcing himself to remain still, to simply enjoy her instead.

He wanted to see her like this, watch her move in her uniquely human way. And it was captivating. She was captivating—graceful and fluid, like water flowing over stone. Her incredibly flexible hips rocked into him with hypnotic rhythm, each motion engulfing him with sensation that threatened to drown his senses. She wasn't moving fast—certainly not fast enough for him to come—yet Garrus found himself hoping she would never stop. The exquisite pressure of her body around him made his subvocals erupt with needing sounds, and he could see in the way her breath quickened, that she was losing more of herself with every wave of her ocean crashing against his rocky shore.

Her eyes, closed moments before, now opened, catching the silvery glow of artificial Citadel moonlight. Her soft palms found his chest and pressed more firmly as she sought leverage. She bent forward, offering him a rare view of his bondmate—her long hair cascading around them like fire, the loose strands nearly brushing his plates.

Her soft human lips parted in a silent gasp before releasing the most maddening sound of pleasure, her eyes fluttering closed once more. His hands instinctively tightened around her narrow waist, talons sinking into yielding flesh.

She began to move faster, her blunt human nails found their way between his plates and now teased the sensitive hide beneath. His dominant turian nature rebelled against this surrender of control, his every instinct refused to submit to the female's lead. Yet Garrus held himself in check, forcing his body to remain still. His subvocals betrayed him though, buzzing with urgent need as pressure built in his core, burning hotter with each movement. His ever growing desperation must have reached her through their bond, for she responded in kind and quickened the pace to match his urgency.

Garrus snarled at her whimpers and increasingly frantic movements. Still not fast enough. Spirits, she was the most exquisite torture in the galaxy, every roll of her hips stoking the fire in his blood. His body ached for her with primal intensity, every fiber of his turian being screamed to seize control, to claim her. But he held back, teetering on the edge of his restraint. Waiting.

She looked straight at him, green irises dark with desire. Her fingernails dug deep between his plates and made the turian hiss. A lingering moan escaped her parted lips, transforming into his name with such raw want it made his plates ripple.

"Garrus!"

And he was waiting no more! Grasping her thighs, he sat upright sharply, slamming into her with all his strength. Lifting her up and thrusting her down, moving her along his length mercilessly, as she was wailing her pleasure.

Her one hand grabbed at his cowl, her other went to the back of his neck. She threaded her many fingers through his fringe with devastating precision, drawing a deep, feral sound from his throat. Only she knew how to touch him like this, how to make his control splinter from overstimulation.

The pressure coiled within him like a spring wound too tight, threatening to unleash the most intense climax. He gritted his teeth, mandibles clamped tight against his face as he fought against his body's desperate urge to release. Not just yet.

Her human signs were telling him everything he needed to know. And just before she arched in his arms, Garrus claimed her neck breaking the silk-thin skin and sinking his teeth into what was his. Her cry resonated through the room adding to his own vicious growling. The metallic taste heightened the feel of her convulsing around him and pulling him into her depths—it pushed him right over the edge. His teeth sunk even deeper as he spilled inside his female shaking, and panting, and snarling, but not letting go. He knew what would follow, what his turian seed would do. The second it hit her sensitive walls, she started contracting around him anew, squeezing hard, making him explode with another climax. His grip tightened as they found another release together, neither willing to let go. She meowed and squirmed as he pulsed within her core and spilled once again, pouring all of himself into their joining, to the very last drop.

Gradually, his jaw unclenched, aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through his body, intensified by the lingering metallic taste. With gentle precision, he lapped at the wound his passion had left, rough tongue carefully cleaning and soothing the marked flesh. She whimpered softly as his teeth withdrew, but instead of pulling away, his bondmate pressed herself closer, trembling against him. Spirits, this female…

They remained entwined as their heartbeats found a shared rhythm. Her skin was fire against his plating. These quiet moments after mating always struck him the deepest—when she was pliant and trusting in his arms. Cuddling, humans called it. The concept had seemed strange at first, but now, feeling her nestled safely against him, Garrus understood. She was healing something inside of him he hadn't known was wounded. She was good for his soul.