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zet-sway · 1 year ago

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Fanfic: Ocean's Prayer

Or, Thane is a dom for hire.

[Read on AO3] - Rated E for EXTREMELY SPICY TIMES

Pairing: Thane/FShep | Rating: 18+ | Words: ~13000

Featuring ART by @messydiabolical!!

She reached for her omni-tool and read over Thane's proposal again. His final summary promised new experiences, intimacy so deeply indulgent that he actually warned her that her standards might be permanently rearranged. He had even included the words "fucked within an inch of your life." She could practically read it in his voice, could almost feel his weight pressing down on her, kissing his venom into her mouth.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Shepard heard a voice shout from across the bar. A pretty asari waved a lavender hand as she approached.

“Piper! It’s so good to see you again! And look what you’ve done with your hair. It looks great!” she said as she pulled Shepard in for a tight hug. “Come sit, come sit.”

Shepard let her lead the way to a table for two and set a gift bag down, summoning a warm smile even though she felt like hell. “I was traveling on Earth and thought of you.”

Ruby, Shepard’s date, was dressed sharply in a pretty, thigh-length dress that showed off strappy heels and a teasing amount of cleavage. Her nails were lacquered in gleaming silver with white tips, eyes wreathed in smokey makeup that complimented her markings. By all accounts, a gorgeous person.

Even so, Shepard had little taste for this preamble.

Shepard’s name wasn’t Piper, and her date’s name was probably not Ruby. The neat little gift bag sitting on the table contained a sum of credits for the escort sitting across from her. Shepard was getting laid tonight.

She had come with glowing reviews, a promise to give Shepard a night she would remember. All Shepard wanted was to get her brains fucked out. Preferably by someone dependable, in case she wanted to hook up again in the future. Instead, she was ad-libbing false answers to questions about her life, under the pretense of “getting to know each other.”

She tried to hide her impatience - Ruby was friendly, a little sultry, and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and Shepard supposed that was the draw of this kind of thing. A lot of people, she’d been told, sought a personal connection to complete the experience. The trouble was, what could she say? That she was on a life-or-death mission to save the world?

"You mentioned you were in the reserves. Why'd you leave?"

Shepard half chuckled and half coughed. “Injured on the job,” she said with a shake of her head.

Ruby nodded. “Sorry to hear, must've been bad if they let you out early."

Shepard downed the rest of her drink. "Bad enough that I'd rather not talk about it."

“Sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Ruby, placing a warm hand over Shepard’s loosely clenched one. “How about we go somewhere a little quieter?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sex was good, at least.

Ruby had, indeed, fucked her brains out. But as Shepard settled back into her own bed aboard the Normandy that night, she couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. Some part of her left unsatisfied in a way she had difficulty explaining. The whole affair had been such an obvious attempt to make her feel like a normal human being. And though Shepard was blessed with many skills, pretending she had 'normal problems' was not one of them.

Unable to sleep, she flicked on her omni-tool, its orange glow near blinding in the darkness, and decided to respond to her follow-up questions. Ravishing Rendezvous, Inc definitely laid it on thick. They wanted her business, and they weren’t shy about it. She settled into her pillows as she opened the questions.

On a scale of 1 to 5, how would you rate your experience?

A solid three out of five. Mood and atmosphere? Two out of five. Intimacy? Four out of five - minus one star because she really did not want someone moaning a fake name again. Ruby herself? Five out of five.

Help us curate your next experience by answering the following yes or no questions:

More human, or less human?

Definitely less human. She had slept with humans before and she didn’t need a live visual comparison to remind her of all the weird shit going on in her own body. She had hoped an asari companion would be far enough off to satisfy her. She had only been partially right.

More romantic, or less romantic?

Maybe less? She wasn't sure. Romance was unfamiliar territory, but she definitely didn't want roses or chocolate or… whatever people defined as romantic in galactic space.

The next one made her raise an eyebrow.

More masculine, or more feminine?

She hesitated, thought about choosing "no comment," but reconsidered. Masculine didn’t have to mean male - although she wasn’t opposed to the idea.

A new question appeared on her screen.

More dominant, or more submissive?

Shepard let her arm flop back on the bed as she thought about it. Submissive would imply she wanted to take the lead. It wasn’t a bad idea, but she worried she would come on too strong. Did Ravishing Rendezvous just have the perfect individual waiting in the wings for 200+ pounds of reconstructed Alliance marine to come crashing into them? Someone who would bear the brunt of her energy while also making sure they came out satisfied too? Some people get off on this, she reminded herself. But Shepard, more so than anything, didn’t have the mental energy to place the entirety of a stranger's satisfaction in her hands - she already spent her days worrying about everyone but herself. No, she wanted someone who would take charge.

She tapped her finger on “dominant.” It seemed like a move in the right direction.

Are you interested in viewing our BDSM specialists?

Shepard blinked a few times and squinted, wanting to be sure she read the question right.

She’d been fucked roughly before, but never dominated. Never tied up or bossed around, never controlled. The idea wasn’t familiar but the potential challenge was exciting. Like dropping into combat on a planet she’d never been to and coming back covered in sweat and stinking of eezo. Or navigating all the pain and adrenaline and exhaustion of her N7 promotion - being brought low and forged anew on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed “Yes."

What followed were a handful of questions to gauge her interests and experience, before finally displaying for her a list of names and faces.

To say there were some interesting options was an understatement. More turians than she could count, a couple of krogan and asari, and even one or two quarians. There were a few smug-looking human men that she immediately thumbs-downed.

One person, however, caught her attention right away.

Enter a world of fathomless pleasures…

You know him as Ocean’s Prayer, the legend behind Fornax's renowned kink publication. Thane Krios has stepped out of the shadows for a one-on-one affair you’ll never forget. With a wide range of specialties ranging from softcore bondage to your most craven fetishes, Sere Krios offers a handcrafted experience tailored to your heart's secret desires. One taste of his venom and you’ll never be the same again.

Exclusions apply. In-person consultation required. Discretion guaranteed.

Shepard sucked in a breath, staring at the image of an emerald-colored drell with a deep crimson throat. A striking three-quarter turn portrait framed him at waist height against a black background, bright light deepening the interesting divisions that decorated his forehead, drawing her eyes to the glossy scales and velvety folds of his cheek. He wore a simple, low-cut shirt that showed off his thick arms and strong, broad chest. Even things that would have been understated on any other person were impossible to look away from because he was just so different. Colorful and serene, but radiating a strength of confidence that Shepard desperately wished to reclaim for herself.

And not only was he gorgeous, he also came highly recommended, and his profile was heaped with stellar ratings.

She whistled when she saw his base fee. Fuck it. Cerberus was paying anyway. Christ, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a drell in person.

She bit her lip and sent off a contact request.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His office was located on the 35th floor of Three Nerium Plaza, a skyscraper on the southern end of Nos Astra.

Shepard waited in the elevator with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather jacket. She’d been in all manner of stressful meetings before, but somehow even her appearance before the damn council hadn’t made her this antsy. She checked her reflection in the elevator’s mirrored back wall, straightening her jacket, unzipping it to just above the center of her chest. Should she have worn something less casual? Was it a stupid idea to reveal herself as the Commander Shepard? This was ridiculous. She’d already fussed an inordinate amount for what was only a preliminary meeting.

The elevator opened into an underwhelming carpeted lobby, thankfully devoid of any other people. The directory led her down a series of hallways to the opaque walnut door of “T. Krios Consulting Services” - a neat little turn of phrase that could mean anything on Illium - beyond which was a waiting room, of sorts. Comfortable-looking chairs sat empty beside a wall lined with real, paper books with worn spines and interesting titles. Shepard fidgeted as she looked around the room, unsure what she expected in the first place. There was only one door, presumably leading to his office. Finally, her Omni-tool lit up with a soft ping, and she slowly opened the door.

His voice was the first thing that hit her as she entered a stunningly minimalist corner office.

“Good evening," he greeted with a smile, stepping out from behind a gleaming onyx desk and extending a hand. “You must be my 8 o'clock appointment.”

She could practically feel every syllable in her bones. Wow.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Krios,” she said with confidence she didn’t quite feel. His scaled palm was warm against hers, fingers gripping tight in a way that drove her heart rate just a little higher. He was shorter than she expected but possessed a larger-than-life quality in a black vest with a collared shirt beneath, the first three buttons of which were undone to arrange the material around his neck and upper chest. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

"Just Thane, if you don’t mind. Please, make yourself comfortable. Will you be using a pseudonym or shall I call you by the name on your contact form?"

Shepard seated herself and tried to relax. “Depends - are you recording?”

“Never, unless you wish it,” he said as he sat opposite her. She couldn’t help but notice he had no terminal, no pens or paper, and no datapad. Only a lamp, a steaming mug of tea, and a carafe of fresh water with a pair of empty glasses.

"Shepard is fine. Between us only."

"Of course, Miss Shepard. Your reputation precedes you. What brings you to me this evening?"

The way he omitted the word "Commander" from his tongue had a way of putting her at ease that she didn't expect. She cleared her throat softly.

“I’m an ex-military officer involved in a sensitive operation. I’ve got some shore leave coming before we kick off, and I’m hoping to… forget about all that for a while.”

“I see. A little distraction to take the edge off,” he said with a slight nod, sitting back in his chair as though they were having the most normal conversation of all time. “I am honored. Do you have any questions about what I do?”

“Yeah, how does this work?”

“We will discuss your needs and go over necessary safety information. After our meeting, I will submit a proposal to you. Let me be clear that the proposal is not a contract, but a document over which we can agree on do’s and don’ts, must-haves, and, if you wish, an itinerary for the evening.”

Shepard raised a brow. “...if I wish?”

“Some of my more risk-averse clients like to know what’s in store. Others prefer to be… surprised.”

On impulse, she said, “Surprise me.”

The way he smiled made her itchy with some kind of desire.

“You may take as much time as you need to review my proposal, ask questions, and make changes as you see fit - consultation is free. Once we have come to an agreement, we will select a date and time. A deposit is required to secure your booking.”

“And this will be discreet?"

"Your privacy is my first priority, Miss Shepard."

"No recording devices?"

He gave a small smile that reached his beautiful dark eyes.

"I have no need. My species possess eidetic memory. I assure you, whatever you say within these walls and in my studio will stay between us.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. What else didn’t she know about drell?

“If you wish, we can move on to the specifics of your needs. Tell me more about the nature of your burdens.”

Shepard took a deep breath and leaned forward. She'd thought about this.

"When I'm on the ground team, it feels like I don't think. There's no time for worry or delay, no time for pain. It's like a veil comes down and separates me from all the things that keep me up at night. I just act."

She lowered her eyes, fixated on his hands. But Thane waited, not the slightest bit perturbed. It was almost unnerving.

“So many people put their lives in my hands without a second thought. I get so lost in the mission that the silence of my own ship is unbearable. I come back topside ready to take on the galaxy, and there’s nothing but an empty bed and a cold shower waiting for me. I’m pent up.”

Thane nodded, assessing her with those enormous black eyes. “You indicated on your dossier that you are looking for someone to lead you, but you have not endeavored to engage in submissive play before.”

She hadn’t been anywhere near as eloquent on her contact form, but that was the jist of it.

“That’s correct. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all. Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind for your first time? There are no wrong answers; please be as plain as you feel you need to be.”

This was the part she was most nervous about. On her own ship, she made demands easily. But this wasn’t her ship, and these requests weren’t for the good of her crew or mission. Asking for such personal, intimate attention made her feel uncomfortably selfish.

“I was sort of hoping you’d have some suggestions because I’ve only had one partner in the last four or so years. The alliance doesn't give us loads of time or space for hookups in general, much less experimenting. But I…” she sat back, propped an elbow up on the armrest, and laid her temple on her fingertips, deliberately avoiding his eyes.

“Restraints are fine. Ordering me around is also fine, as long as you don’t ask me to do something ridiculous. I can take pain, but I don’t want you to be cruel. I just want to be… acknowledged. I want someone to address my needs because heaven knows I can’t do it myself. Push my boundaries, restrain me, but don't humiliate me. I've been fighting a losing battle for years; I didn't come here to lose another one.” She forced herself to meet his gaze as though it would confirm he was listening. “Whatever you do, I want you to fuck me within an inch of my life. I want to leave here so thoroughly railed that my ship's doctor orders me on bed rest.

The way his gorgeous mouth quirked sent a brief flicker of need ghosting down her spine. Whatever his intentions, that fleeting expression told her she'd been heard loud and clear. The hard part was over. She exhaled and decided to help herself to some ice water.

“Your request is duly noted. I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Do you have any injuries I should know about? Any places on your body I should avoid?"

Shepard paused, halfway through chugging her glass.

"I'm… not sure."

Thane sat forward and folded his hands loosely on his desk. His voice was kind. "The question is for your safety, although I acknowledge the topic may be hard to discuss.”

She worked her jaw, not knowing where to begin. He knew who she was, but did he know why she was?

"I died," she said at last. And if he was surprised by this, he didn't let on.

"What manner of trauma caused your NDE?"

Shepard shook her head. "Not a near-death experience. It’s complicated. I’m not sure which parts of me are still me."

His brow softened. "Forgive me, but have you considered seeking-"

Shepard closed her eyes and raised a hand. "Not what I came here for. If it's a deal breaker, I can leave right now - no fuss." She actually wasn't sure she wouldn't be upset, but she refused to let on. Every moment she spent doubting herself only made her feel worse.

"Understood, Miss Shepard. We can work through any unplanned discomforts as they arise. Do you have any medications that may need to be administered as a result of your… experience?”

She shook her head. While technically untrue, her medications were ported into her via implant every several weeks.

"I will also need an emergency contact."

She raised a brow.

“It would be unfair to expect you to account for every foreseeable risk. As a safety precaution for both of us, I cannot book your session without a contact on file."

Who in the world could she even…

"Can I get back to you on that?"

"Certainly, but please be aware that without a contact, I can only hold your booking for 48 hours."

"That's fine. I was out for two years. A lot of my contacts are… unreachable right now."

Thane smiled warmly at her. "Very well. You will have my proposal to review by sunrise. Consider it something to build on; there is no need to rush into something you aren't comfortable with."

Shepard let out a sigh of relief. "Great, looking forward to it."

“There is one more important matter to discuss.”

Shepard raised a brow as Thane reached into a drawer and produced a small vial, no larger than her little finger.

"As you indicated in your consultation request, you have not been with a drell before, I would prefer you to establish your reaction to my species’ venom. If you find yourself to be averse to its effects, it would be ideal to know before we begin."

“So you’re saying I might be… allergic to you?” Shepard tried to temper her reaction but her face scrunched in confusion anyway. “Is this like a dextro/levo thing?”

“Not at all. Drell venom is known for its hallucinogenic properties. Many of my clients have sought me out for this reason.”

“Oh.” She took the vial and rolled it in her palm. There was maybe half a teaspoon or less of clear amber fluid inside, and it coated the glass as it moved. She stared at it dumbly, wondering in the deafening silence just how this material was extracted from the man before her.

“I understand you are on a sensitive mission,” he said with a gentle tone. “You may refuse, of course. But in that case, I would recommend abstaining from oral contact and insemination during our session.”

She nearly choked when he said insemination, but his point was easy enough to understand. He was saying she couldn't kiss him, which seemed a damn shame given his perfectly shaped mouth. The rest of his point was… something she would be mulling over for days.

“How intense is this stuff? What should I be prepared for?” Will your semen really make me hallucinate?

“Most humans describe a dreamy state of mind, a feeling of being relaxed, and reduced inhibitions. Some report seeing enhanced colors, trails of light and sound, and heightened sensitivity. In my experience, it will occasionally make a partner more… glib.”

She looked up at him. “You have people in here getting high and spilling secrets?”

Thane gave a small quirk of his lips. “I can't say.”

“How long does it last?”

“That depends on your metabolism, but usually no more than forty-five minutes.”

After a moment's consideration, Shepard pocketed the vial. Whatever experience was waiting for her, she wanted all of it. At the very least she knew Chakwas wouldn’t breathe a word about it if she reacted badly.

Oh.

“Actually, I do have an emergency contact for you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sure as he’d said, his proposal arrived in the early hours of the morning. Secure and alone with a coffee and a plate of Gardner’s famous “Blueberry Triangles,” she held her breath, opened the message, and began to read.

To say this was a detailed document was an understatement. Thane had gone so far as to include definitions, clarifications, and FAQ’s alongside diagrams and lists of equipment he had at his disposal. Shepard’s sense of modesty had long since been eroded by years of enlistment, but even still, she blushed through half-clinical/half-pornographic descriptions of what people and technology were capable of in the year 2185.

By the time she reached the end, she was already feeling a little hot under the collar. His email signature read “with pleasure." No kidding, she thought.

Over the next several days, questions, clarifications, and other caveats were exchanged before they finally settled on everything. In the meantime, she did a little research of her own. Drell venom, she'd learned, could be extracted any number of ways, but the most popular strategy was to isolate the compound from saliva or "other" bodily fluids (something she had spent ample time 'thinking about' before bed).

Her sample vial had been sitting on her desk for days, innocuous but impossible to ignore. Based on her reading, it seemed harmless enough. But it was hard to escape the fact that it had come from his body. Why this felt different than eating out her first girlfriend, she had no idea. Maybe because her first girlfriend hadn't tied her up while she did it.

Having just returned from a firefight on Aeia, she grabbed the vial on her way into the shower, set it on the vanity, and stared it down as she washed her hair. She’d tried hallex once a few years back, out with her unit on shore leave. It wasn’t an experience she cared to revisit. Everything she knew told her it would be a much more mild experience. After all, how could he run a successful operation if he was poisoning everyone he fucked? And boy, she wanted to fuck him.

The apprehension was getting her nowhere. Shepard squared her shoulders, cladding herself in the determination she had felt just hours earlier when she liberated the survivors of the Gernsbeck. The cold was the furthest thing from her mind when the automatic water system timed out; she opened the vial and downed every drop.

It was thick, as she expected. It had the consistency of warm honey, tasted like salty citrus, and perhaps most surprisingly, felt kind of carbonated on her tongue. There were no bubbles in the vial, she was sure, but it tingled all the way down her throat.

Shepard stood there, dripping water, skin prickling in the cold, waiting for something to happen. Five minutes went by. Nothing. No dreaminess, no reduced inhibitions, and certainly no colors. She shivered, too hard focused on the venom to move the few inches she would need to towel off.

Nothing happened.

Until she moved.

Warmth flooded her limbs the moment she reached for her towel. She opened the bathroom door to a world of new sensations. Light gleamed off her model ship collection like twinkling lights. Her fish were brilliant blurs of color against their soothing blue backdrop. On the other side of the cabin, her armor locker interface glowed like a campfire. She wasn't cold anymore, not in the slightest. She felt comfortable - relaxed, even. The tension left her shoulders the moment she flopped naked on her bed, watching the stars go by in dazzling flashes and streaks.

Oh, yeah. This was nice.

Something hot and untamed inside her told her this man didn't make promises he couldn't keep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Jeez Commander, you got a hot date or something?"

Shepard was jumpy with anticipation. Her inbox was empty for the first time in weeks, her crew had their assignments, and her shore leave was cleared. Nos Astra's docking bay came into view.

"What's it to you, flight lieutenant?"

"I'm just saying, you're crowding the bridge right now."

"It's my ship," she said, one hand resting on the back of Joker's chair as the ship settled into its docking clamps. Her omni-tool pinged with a preset reminder. Forty-five minutes till showtime.

"Must be nice."

"You say that like you aren't also getting shore leave." She pushed off his chair with a playful shove.

"Uh-huh. We're all getting sloshed at a bar called Chocolate Starfish, but someone isn't coming with."

"Yup," she replied, dismissive.

"Definitely a hot date," he muttered as she made her way off the ship.

A sleek, luxury cab was waiting to take her through the heart of Nos Astra under a brutal sun. This place looked nothing like it did at night. She wondered how many other individuals in Thane's line of work had their offices and studios in the gleaming towers that crowded the city byways.

This time, she docked at the upper taxi pavilion on the 75th floor and took the lift down to the same level as before, loosening her shoulders as though preparing for a combat drop.

Soon enough, she stood face to face with a pair of frosted glass doors. A soft, warm light shone beyond, giving the portal a sense of ominous liminality - a transition between worlds. On one side, the world she came here to escape from. On the other, an unknown kind of pleasure awaited. Fingers wrapped around the cold stainless steel handle and she breathed deep.

The door opened with a rush of warm air. Smooth bamboo floors led her through a new reality of warm colors and textures that, while unexpected, helped put her at ease. She followed the corridor around a short bend and entered a gorgeous room with a vaulted ceiling and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Illium’s dizzying metropolis. To her left was a neatly made bed; to her right, a sofa accented with red patterned pillows, and overhead, a series of dangling artisanal incandescent bulbs.

Thane himself stood before the wall of windows with hands clasped behind his back. He was facing away from her, and from this distance, she could gauge his height and build much better than when they had met on opposite sides of his desk. From his wide shoulders and downward, to the satisfying taper of his hips and an absolutely perfect ass, he possessed a classic silhouette she found immediately enticing.

He wore a neatly tailored cream-colored button-down, sleeves tucked neatly into themselves just above his elbows, and dark-colored pants. To her surprise, he wore no shoes and no adornments. He looked comfortable, in fact, as he turned to greet her arrival.

“Welcome, Siha,” he said warmly.

Shepard wondered if Siha was some kind of cultural term for submissive, but said nothing. On instinct, she straightened her back and shoulders, eyes straight ahead as he approached. Her immediate shift to full attention seemed to amuse him, because he lifted the corner of his mouth in a small smile, now just a step away from her. A hand reached across the shallow divide as he passed, settling softly on her arm.

Shepard clung to that point of contact as he circled behind her, stroking up and down her arms and shoulders, squeezing and releasing each muscle.

“At ease, soldier.”

Beneath his chaste touch, everything seemed clearer than before. His words took her back to a simpler time, back to when expectations had been heaped upon her, but they were clear, easy to identify, and even easier to obey. Demands that didn't require her to perform the impossible or weigh the worth of her entire species.

“Within these walls, your purpose is to serve me. Until sunset, you will address me as 'Sir.' Please me, and I will reward you. Disappoint me, and you may find yourself reprimanded.”

He paused. She knew what to do.

"Yes sir."

It didn't matter if he meant to threaten or intimidate her. No, when Thane spoke to her this way, she felt relieved, reminded that he was here to do the thinking for her. Shepard exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and he made a small sound of approval.

“Tell me your safe words.”

“Cherry for stop, sir. Kiwi for pause.”

His hands smoothed over her lower back and hips. “And if you find yourself unable to speak?”

“Two taps, sir, with hands or feet.”

“Good, Siha.”

His touch lingered on her like a phantom as he withdrew and circled around to stand two paces before her.

“Please undress.”

Despite having been in various states of undress in front of other soldiers many times, this was altogether different. Thane was not shy about the way he assessed her, making no attempt to avert his eyes, although his expression remained neutral. Her shirt came off first, and she looked to him when she realized she didn’t know what to do with it. His expression betrayed nothing, so she elected to fold it quickly and place it on the ground beside her feet.

Her boots and socks came off next, and then her pants. Each time she looked at him, he did not react, and so she continued, unhooking her bra. The cool air helped distract her from the color rising to her cheeks.

When she reached her panties, he took a step forward. “That’s enough. Place your feet three inches apart.”

An oddly specific order, but easy enough to follow. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she settled into parade rest, palms out and overlapping against her backside.

Thane collected her pile of clothing and placed it somewhere by the door. Her skin prickled, whether due to temperature or anticipation, she couldn't tell. When he returned, he touched her shoulder again, this time with much more care. His scaled fingers traced a glowing scar.

“Does this cause you pain, Siha?”

“No sir."

“I admit I've never seen anything like this before. Do not hesitate to tell me if they cause you distress.”

Shepard took a deep breath. Reading people had never been her strong suit, but she understood what he was saying. Somehow, it was more comforting than isolating. It felt like he cared.

“Yes sir,” she confirmed, perhaps softer than she intended.

For a moment, he continued to wander, and although his touch was chaste, she felt her body stir beneath his eyes and hands. Trust was a frail vine, sun-seeking, crawling from the remains of her damaged ego. Something about him was calming in a way that felt disarming. She wanted him to touch her, badly enough that she didn’t flinch when he began to dress her with a length of rope.

This time, he was less chaste. He allowed his hands to brush along her curves as he worked, warm scales pressing into soft flesh, crisscrossing the valley between her breasts in a way that framed them prominently to his attention. Heat collected along the lines he traced across her bare skin, the rope creating a sort of harness around her torso. She bit her lip when he finished his work and circled behind her without further contact.

Her arms were next. Another length of cord slipped beneath her biceps, drawing them behind her. The position pulled her shoulders back, elbows some inches apart in their bindings as he continued, forcing her chest into the bright strokes of sunlight pouring through the windows. Her forearms followed, and then her wrists, palms folding together. There was a firm tug as he secured a knot above her hands.

Shepard flexed in her restraints, testing her range of motion. He had given her enough space that her arms could slide together, but not comfortably.

"Too tight?" He asked.

"No. -no sir."

Strong hands settled on her hips, textured hands dragging across her skin as he circled her, either inspecting his work or her body - probably both.

“Now then, where to begin?” he said as he came to a stop before her. Her skin tingled in his wake, absorbing the heat of his touch, and she sighed as his palms smoothed over her breasts. He seemed pleased by her reaction. “Perhaps here. As you know, my species does not possess such anatomy.”

He continued to touch her, capturing her nipples in the spaces between his fingers.

“Feels good,” she sighed, and he immediately withdrew, knocking her right breast with an open palm. “Sir-” she corrected. “It feels good, sir.”

“Very good, Siha.” His hands returned, taking each of her nipples between his fingertips. “Shall we test the range of your sensitivity?”

“Y-yes,” He applied firmer pressure. Her eyes slid closed and she groaned. “Just like that.”

This time, he made a show of gripping her jaw firmly in one hand as he tugged on her breast with the other. Whatever lack of focus she had before was banished in an instant. His reaction was even more arousing than his touch - the way he did not hesitate to remind her of the rules of their game.

“I will not warn you again,” he said.

“-sir,” she gasped, pushing her chest eagerly into his hands.

He made a low sound, slowly twisting his fingers. The feeling was electric, bordering just on the edge of pain. If this was how the entire night was going to be, she was sure she wouldn’t survive. He continued to touch her, alternating between massaging and tweaking her breasts as she writhed in her restraints, kindling the needful heat growing inside her.

One hand fell between them, wedging between her tightly pressed thighs. His voice made her ache when he pulled himself close and said "Open your legs, Siha."

She complied immediately, widening her stance. His fingertips traced her seam through her panties, forcing the fabric between her lips and rubbing a slow, firm line up and down her cunt. She felt rather than heard his low purr of approval. “Already soaking wet?"

"Yes sir," she breathed.

Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his head and touched his lips to the center of her chest, roaming hands pushing up on her breasts to bring them nearer to his face, nearer to his mouth.

Plush lips pushed against the sensitive tip of one breast and then moved to the other. He had been handling her for scarcely two minutes and already had proved himself more adept than any lover she'd ever known. She tensed, every pleasure center on her body yearning for the promise of his hot mouth.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Her eyes lowered to his; enormous, dark, and somehow possessing a manner of depth she had never seen in any species before. Light from the windows illuminated the irises beneath his dark sclera, the same color as the fine scales adorning his cheeks. It felt like he could see past every lie she told herself, every fabrication she’d ever hidden behind. Good christ, if he already had her halfway to ruined, what the hell was he going to do to her for the rest of the night?

His mouth ghosted across her skin as he said, “Tell me what you want, Siha.”

She had to blink to regain herself. His mouth was right there, but rather than be direct, she attempted to appeal to his position. “Your mouth, sir," she said, before adding meekly, "...if it would please you, sir.”

The sound he made was all the reward she needed; a deep, satisfied thrum of arousal that made his crimson cheeks flutter.

His mouth finally closed around the tip of her breast, tongue stroking long and firm across the sensitive peak. She couldn’t help the low moan that left her, every pass of his tongue like fire licking her spine. She squirmed, and he moved to her other breast, tonguing her nipple as he rolled the first between his fingers. The feeling was white-hot torment between her parted thighs, pressure screaming to be relieved. She wondered if she could climax off this alone, stumbling with the effort to maintain her balance as he tore her apart with devastating effect.

“Fuck-” Her thighs came together, desperate for relief as she begged “Please-”

A second later, his touch vanished, and her heart dropped. She let out a strangled whine of frustration and stumbled as she reached for him only to be reminded that her hands were immobile.

“Disobedient,” Thane deadpanned, straightening himself to face her. “And to think how close you were.”

“Please, sir-”

“Hush, Siha. Allow me to help you remember yourself.” He soothed a thumb across her cheek before stepping away out of her line of sight, leaving her to wonder what he had in store.

His footsteps were nearly silent as he moved through the room behind her. She heard a drawer open, followed by the sound of softly clinking metal. Moments later, she felt his touch on her hands, trailing a line up her bound arms and between her shoulder blades. Something that felt like leather brushed the nape of her neck and she tensed, adrenaline igniting her blood as she prepared herself for what she imagined was a whip or a crop or-

“I have a request,” he said. “Something I would like you to wear for me.”

It didn't matter that she didn't know what it was. She agreed without hesitation.

“This is a collar,” he said as the cool leather encircled her neck. “May I?”

Shepard breathed a relieved “Yes sir.”

His voice was kind when he said, “Thank you." The material settled against her skin, not as tight as she expected. A gentle tension passed quickly as he secured the buckle. Although she could not see it, she could feel the cold press of some kind of metal against the front of her throat.

He departed again for only a moment, and returned to face her. He placed something soft on the ground between them. When he spoke, his voice was low and tenebrous.

“On your knees, Siha"

She sank slowly, trembling with the effort to maintain her balance. Hell or high water, she was determined not to disappoint him again. Her knees sank into the cushion he so kindly provided, and after some effort, he brought a gentle hand to her jaw.

"Good girl," he murmured, stroking her cheek.

Shepard wasn't prepared for the heat that rose to her face - and between her legs - at his words. They filled her with a kind of pride and lust that she hardly recognized, flooding her with yearning.

"Are you familiar with meditation?" He said as he began to undo his belt with all the nonchalance in the world.

Her breathing quickened. Words felt flimsy in her mouth. "I've never tried it, sir."

"The practice is meant to achieve clarity of mind," he continued. "You may begin by focusing on your breathing.”

His fly dropped and his cock came free, a stiff and gleaming shock of fuschia against his pale green belly.

Yes, a deep breath was what she needed right now. His size was intimidating. Thane seemed to give her a moment to admire him, aware from their conversations that she had never slept with a drell before. Were they all so colorful and endowed?

"Feel your breath," he said softly. He drew close, a hand beneath her chin pulling her gaze up the length of his body. “Center yourself on the here and now. There is nothing but you and I.”

Inhale.

He touched her hair. She could feel the heat radiating from his thick, ridged length as he held her gaze.

"I will give you everything, Siha. Do you trust me?”

Exhale.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

There was a warm hand on the back of her skull.

"Breathe deep. Open your mouth. Taste."

Compliance poured from her without question, lips parting at his command. He laid the tip against her tongue as she looked up at him through errant strands of hair, waiting and ready for him to slide himself into her throat.

"Be reminded that you may hallucinate."

In that moment it was clear why he had insisted she dose herself beforehand. One way or another, he was already on her tongue, the faint citric flavor of him already calling her attention. She pushed her tongue against his tapered head, gauging his reaction. She wanted to see him as lost as he had made her, wanted to hear whatever deep, delicious sounds his rich baritone voice might produce. Unable to speak, she settled simply for a small nod of acknowledgment. His smile could have melted her.

Slowly, he pushed himself into her throat.

He was overwhelming in the most exquisite way. Bound and on her knees, she couldn't do much but take the intrusion as he seated himself so deep in her throat that her eyes nearly watered. The sound he made was soft and low, sinking through the cracks in her mind like water in the desert. He pulled his hips back, combed through her hair with elegant green fingers before grasping a fistful near the back of her skull, pulling her back into him. She let out a low groan of satisfaction as they both worked her mouth on and off of his sizable length. She had no idea where he would be most sensitive, but he seemed to take no issue with the way she swiped her tongue hard over the underside of his shaft and hollowed her cheeks.

The hallucinations began quiet and slow. Her skin warmed, her mouth tingled, and when she opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) his scales glimmered like soft, iridescent stars.

High above her, Thane's mouth hung just slightly open, his eyes hazy, free hand hanging limply by his side as he used her mouth. She found a pronounced cluster of ridges near the root of him and drove her tongue against it, rewarded at last with a guttural sigh and softening brow.

"Your throat is a paradise, Siha," he panted, quickening his pace ever so slightly. "So good, so tight.”

The heat inside her was tethered to his words, a fire that burned hotter every time he praised her. She moaned around his length, pushing against him with her tongue, sucking him with abandon. He fucked her mouth until her jaw ached, the panties still wedged in her cunt burning against her clit. She wanted his climax like she wanted her own. Wanted to know if he would taste like the sun and zest he radiated before she drowned in the ocean of her own unsatiated lust, desperate for whatever he deemed her worthy of.

She heard his breath catch in his throat, and that was all the warning he got before he shoved her head onto his cock. He pushed so deep that saliva hissed out the corners of her lips before he stopped, trembled, and came on a whisper-quiet breath. Liquid heat flooded her mouth, pulsing, thick and hot, coating her throat and warming her all the way down with a glittering sensation she couldn't hope to describe. His hand fell away from her hair but she was loathe to release him, sputtering as she hummed around his length. She drank him back until he pulled away and his cock fell heavily from her mouth.

That sweet, sweet high settled over her. Oblivious to the thin tendril of saliva and cum that dangled from her wet lips, she rested her cheek against his thigh as he closed his pants over his retracting length. And then he was kneeling beside her, holding her as she caught her breath, murmuring soft praises as he used his thumb to trace her lower lip and push what remained of his spend back onto her tongue. The flavor spread into the hollows of her cheeks like rich, warm oil as she worked her jaw closed.

A hand brushed her hair from her eyes. His forehead pressed against hers.

"Lovely," he breathed, voice like silk against her cheek. "You are a gift, Siha.”

Shepard couldn't help but smile dumbly at him, thighs tensing in anticipation. She felt warm all over, dizzy and swaying with need as he helped her to her feet.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, holding her steady.

“A… a little high, sir.”

She watched one of his brow ridges rise as his lips quirked in amusement. The more she looked at him, the more beautiful he seemed to become.

"A good high, I hope?"

“Sir, it feels perfect.”

His eyes seemed lit from within as he smiled.

She allowed herself to be led over to the sofa, where he seated himself and reached for her hips and turned her away from him. Steady hands closed over hers, fingertips slipping beneath her bindings, loosening the knot and securing it again such that it released some, but not all of the tension in her shoulders. There was a brief pause, and then without preamble, he hooked his fingers into her panties and slid them down her legs.

Shepard tried not to squirm. She loved where this was going.

“Please sit, Siha,” he said, patting his thigh.

No sooner had she lowered herself toward him, his arms came up to circle her waist and pull her into his chest. They were skin to scale now, his shirt apparently having been opened at some point prior. Her eyes slid closed, the warmth of his smooth scales at her back giving her a feeling of security as he adjusted her position until her thighs fell open on either side of his.

"You have a new rule," he whispered against her ear. Shepard bit her lip in anticipation. "You must ask for permission to come. Will you do that for me?"

Shepard nodded, too high to remember herself, and jumped when he tapped her clit with three fingers.

"Use your words.”

Her head fell back against his shoulder. "Yes, sir."

For god’s sake, he didn't hesitate. She nearly sobbed as he soaked his fingertips in her wetness, tensing in his arms. It felt like heaven - like she could come right then and there - but she steeled herself. One finger gathered her slick arousal and began to circle her aching clit, teasing with a featherlight touch. She groaned as his other hand palmed her breast. The soft pressure was hypnotic, paired with the glittering sensation of his scaled fingertips between her legs. His breath against her cheek was a radiant, rippling mirage on the horizon of her lust.

Slowly - so, so slowly, he pressed his finger against her wet opening and dragged it upwards, over her pearl. The jump in sensation made her gasp, but he did not reprimand her. If anything he only pulled her tighter against him, repeating the motion once, twice, and again, until she was writhing in his arms, biting her lip to stem the tide of her oncoming climax. That single, relentless motion tore her mind down minute by minute until her entire cunt burned bright with the desperate need for release.

"Please," she gasped. "Please sir, may I come?"

He twisted a nipple in reply, his other hand slipping a finger into her opening.

"So soon, Siha?”

She whined, not sure how much she could take, but desperate now not to disappoint him. "It feels so good, sir."

"I'm glad my touch pleases you so," he murmured, pulling his finger from her depths and letting the connecting thread of sickness draw taut and snap in a cool, bright lash against her sensitive skin. "A fitting reason to continue, I think."

"I’m so close, sir-"

"I don't think you're nearly close enough.” He entered her again with his joined fingers. "I know you can take it, Siha. Let me hear all the beautiful sounds you make for me."

He used his thumb to tease her clit as he curled his fingers inside her and sent a blinding flash of pleasure rocketing up her spine. She grit her teeth.

"D- does it please you to deny me, sir?"

"Oh, Siha, I am deeply satisfied by the way you writhe in my arms."

She whined, trying to pinch her thighs shut to stem the tide of sensation, but it was impossible. He held her too tightly, scaled thumb rasping with delicious, sanguine friction against her slick center. She moaned when she realized he was hard again, his cock pressing into her backside. The thought that she was separated from him by nothing but a godforsaken pair of pants made her feel stupid with need, desperate to know how he would feel buried deep inside her. Her spine bowed, hips bucking against his hand as she released a strangled, pathetic cry of frustration.

"I know, my angel," he crooned, lust coloring his voice. "You can take it. Just a little longer."

He was moving with her now, grinding himself up into her ass as he speared his fingers in and out of her open cunt. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch the way he touched her without the risk of falling over the edge.

"Twenty seconds," he said. Shepard heaved a breath and grit her teeth, counting down in her head. Twenty seconds could pass in seconds on the battlefield. Beneath his hands, it was a nearly unbearable amount of time.

"Ten seconds."

The world was nothing but heat and sensation, her cunt burning like a drive core after a firefight, suffused with the incredible pressure of oncoming release. Thane latched his fingers around her nipple and she sobbed out with need, her spine bowing away from his back, arms and shoulders rigid with effort.

"Five."

The sound that built in her chest was a guttural, frustrated whine born of raw effort. It hissed out through clenched teeth. His fingers hilted in her channel and she swore she could feel every scale that passed through her opening. Just a few seconds-

"Two."

All the control in the world couldn't stop her. She felt the first straining pulse of release and knew she was doomed. Her climax reached up through her belly like a beast, squeezing along her spine and enveloping every nerve in her body in a screaming flood of ecstasy. She shuddered, unable even to hear her own voice as she tumbled through the wave he'd built upon her, chest heaving, straining against her bonds. Finally, all that remained of her breath was a choked-out moan.

She was spent. Somewhere far off in the back of her mind, she was aware she had broken the rules, but his disappointment seemed like a distant, irrelevant thing. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, velvet-soft cheek pressed to hers.

"Breathe with me," he said against her skin. "Breathe."

She could feel how wet she still was; his fingers were the only thing stemming the flow of her own arousal, buried and unmoving inside her. Her shoulders ached, but her body burned, the fog and fatigue of climax at war with the raging desire to be filled, ravaged, and claimed by the part of him pressing hard and hot against her ass. Thane, unconcerned with his own state of need, was still as stone as he continued to chant softly against her, "Breathe, breathe."

She couldn't say how long it took to gain control, but with his body warm at her back, she slowly drifted back to reality until they breathed as one. When she opened her eyes, color bloomed around the golden lights hanging above. It struck her that this man was still a total stranger to her, but here she was, perhaps the most vulnerable she had ever been since she'd woken up on that Cerberus recovery table.

When he finally moved, the shift of his scales against her was electric.

"Can you stand, Siha?"

The words felt like wind in her hair; a soothing brilliance, far too fast to catch. He shifted her into a more upright position until her feet touched the floor.

"...what?" She asked dreamily. Were his floors heated?

Plush lips touched the side of her neck, breath warm on her skin as he asked again with infinite patience, "Can you stand on your own?"

Standing. Right. She wasn't sure she could. How did he know she wasn't sure? All the multitudes of times she'd been knocked on her ass in basic, in N school- no one had ever asked her if she could stand on her own. They'd scarcely asked her if she'd been hurt.

His hands held fast to her hips. With a shaky breath, she blinked her eyes against the hazy afterglow and straightened her back, stretching into a more comfortable stance. She felt her weight settle on her feet.

"I… I think so, sir."

He gave her hips a reassuring squeeze, and something in her heart leapt.

"Very good."

They walked slowly to the other side of the room. He led her to the edge of the bed and encouraged her to sit.

"You came two seconds too early, my angel," Thane said as he began to work the ropes around her wrists and forearms.

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry, sir."

Thane only hummed in consideration as he worked.

"You were magnificent at your peak, Siha. I will forgive this misstep." Her shoulders sagged in relief, his words like a balm on her heart. "However, it would behoove you to remember who you serve."

"Yes, sir."

Her elbows suddenly came free, releasing the tension in her shoulders with a rush. Her hands tingled as blood returned to them. Thane adjusted the remaining cords around her chest but otherwise left them in place. As she sat, he moved in front of her and placed a bottle of water in her hands, from which she drank gratefully. He then began to rub her unbound limbs, drawing a breathy sigh from her. His hands - Jesus, his hands were a damn miracle. She hadn't even noticed how much her shoulders had ached, flexing them beneath his soothing touch.

When he arrived at her wrists, he squeezed gently before reaching beside her and producing a pair of smooth leather cuffs linked by a small clasp.

Her eyes wandered as he worked, following the lines of his fingers toward wide palms, the elegant taper of his wrist, and upward along his strong arms. His shirt was now fully open, and she could see the wide, verdant stripes that flowed over his shoulders, leading her eye to all the other interesting features of his body.

The question rose from her before she could stop it, her fingers reaching before the words had left her mouth.

"May I touch you, sir?"

He looked at her then, and she steeled herself for a reprimand, but there was only kindness in his eyes. He raised her cuffed hands and placed her palms on his chest.

Shepard couldn't help her dumb smile, flattening her hands against smooth, warm scales. There was a surprising softness to them, no resistance as she swiped a thumb over one of the errant dark scales that dusted his body, not unlike her own freckles.

"Is my body pleasing to you, Siha?"

"Yes," she answered breathily, adding the obligatory "-sir," before he could acknowledge its absence.

She traced one of the curious lines of crimson that ran beneath each of his pectorals, rewarded with a soft sound that she not only heard but felt beneath her hands. He’s sensitive here, she realized, repeating the motion with a firmer touch. His reaction, though reserved, was not lost on her. She wanted more of him, wandering downward to trace the diamond-shaped patterns decorating his pale green abdomen, and further still to more crimson frills peeking out from the top of his pants. He didn’t have nipples as a human would, but he did have a belly button, which amused her. And awkward though it was with her hands bound, he seemed pleased at her interest.

Rather than removing her hands, he simply rose and moved away when he'd had enough. He gave her a small, soft smile as he said, "Wait here, Siha."

She blinked as he paced away and disappeared behind a closet door. The euphoria of his venom left her in a relaxed, contented state, overtaken by the memory of the spectacular climax he had given her. She was certain no one had ever brought her off with just their hands before. And though her release had been powerful, it had done little to stifle the need gnawing at the edges of her mind. Her blood stirred with the thought of what he might do next.

Finally, he returned, kissing the crown of her head. He placed a nondescript box by her feet.

"Please stand, Siha,” he said. “Spread your legs, and bend over."

She did as he asked, eagerly bracing her palms on the edge of the bed as she bent over and presented herself to him. Venom swimming in her veins, she wondered how much of her mind was still her own. If there was anything left, it has long since taken up residence in her pelvis.

Thane laid a palm at the base of her spine. Something slick prodded at her weeping cunt, and then she gasped as his fingers slid inside her. He gave two or three slow thrusts before withdrawing and dragging her abundant arousal to the tight bud of her asshole. She moaned in surprise as he pressed against her with one finger, rubbing in firm circles. They had agreed on no anal sex, but play was not off the table.

"When was the last time someone touched you like this?"

"I.. it was a long time ago, sir." She peeked back over her shoulder to find him watching her, rubbing her lower back with his free hand.

“We will go slowly. Remember your safewords.”

In this state, it was so easy to trust him. He slowly pushed a slick finger past her tight hole, feeling the stretch and burn as he entered her.

He reached for something with his free hand, and what it was, she couldn't quite see. As he worked her ass, he introduced the rigid shape of it to the seam of her cunt and eased it inside. It was wide but not long, a rounded plump thing that he let slip out into his palm before pushing it back in, over and over again.

A plug, she realized. He was going to plug her. The idea that he planned to fill both of her holes made her head spin.

His finger slipped out of her ass, and more slickness followed. She felt his fused fingers at her rim and grunted as they breached her. In moments he was building a rhythm, matching the pace of each hand as he began to fuck both of her holes. The feeling was incredible, whatever slight burn she may have felt quickly dissolving into warmth as he worked her. She closed her eyes and let herself fall against the jasmine-scented sheets, pushing her hips back into his hands.

"How does that feel?"

"It’s good, sir,” she breathed.

And then the plug was at her entrance, pushing slowly, opening her with a delicious burning stretch that took her breath away. Deeper it went, stretching and pushing until the bulk of it popped inside her and the flared base settled with a soft tap against her hole. Thane gave it a few taps for good measure, and she couldn't help but moan into the bedspread.

He stepped away for a moment, and she adjusted her stance, flexing and working her hips against the air with unshielded need. The plug’s modest volume put pressure against the inner walls of her cunt, and that hint of stimulation was driving her crazy.

She searched for him over her shoulder until he finally returned, toweling off his freshly washed hands.

"Now then, I seem to recall a discussion about pushing your boundaries.”

Thane squeezed her ass with both hands. Her need flared at the suggestion alone.

“I think a few spanks would do well to remind you who you serve.” He teased her wet slit with his fingertips and gave her ass a light and playful slap, rumbling with desire when let out a quiet gasp. “Are you ready for that, Siha?"

Her cheeks burned and her thighs tensed as she said, "Yes sir, I'm ready."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he responded, "Very well. You will tell me if you become distressed." He caressed the curve of her backside with a warm palm. "Count to ten," he said. And that was all the warning she got before the first spank landed.

It wasn’t forceful, but it jolted her anyway. His palm bounced on the left side of her ass in an upward motion. The sting was near imperceptible, but the intent was clear. She gasped involuntarily.

A few short seconds passed as he rasped her clit with near-threatening softness. And then the second hit landed on her opposite cheek.

"I said, count, Siha."

"T- two, sir."

His hand impacted her left cheek again, and she gasped out, "Three, sir."

"You may drop my honorific for the moment."

She nodded against the sheets, her eyes squeezed shut somewhere between arousal and a vague feeling that touched the edges of embarrassment.

Another spank on her right side. Now that she was warmed up, she welcomed the calidity blooming across her backside, slithering into all the little nerve endings that lined her empty, needy cunt.

"Four."

He continued on, and she counted three seconds between each blow. By the time he hit six, she understood why his strikes were soft. The heat built over her skin in layers, each strike seeming to add to the next until she cried out against the indescribable waves of sensation rocketing through her.

"Seven," she gasped through gritted teeth.

By eight, her ass felt hot in the wake of each blow. Her body was propelled forward in anticipation each time his hand came down, and she relished the electric feeling of her breasts dragging against the bedspread. By nine, she already knew she would miss this when it was over.

The last hit fell against her right cheek. She gasped “Ten,” and he relented.

Shepard sagged against the bed, flinching as he smoothed both palms over her sensitive backside, pushing the lingering burn into her flesh. The feeling sang through her veins.

"I love the way your skin blushes beneath my touch," he murmured, nudging a knuckle against the plug buried in her ass. His fingers then slid - blessedly - back into her cunt, curling right against the part of her that made stars bloom behind her closed eyes.

"Open your hands, Siha," he ordered.

She didn't know what for, but she complied, extending her bound hands across the sheets beneath her until her weight settled on her shoulders. A long, smooth implement was pushed into her palm and she closed her fingers around it as he adjusted its position such that the firm end of it settled against her clit. She leveraged it immediately, snuggling her cunt up to whatever blessed source of friction he had just endowed her with.

"Remember the rules, Siha,” he purred. “You wouldn't disappoint me a second time, would you?"

Cheek pressed against the bed, she nodded. "I promise, sir."

The device hummed to life, a powerful vibration that made her shiver. Shepard let out a low moan.

"Good girl. Count to ten."

And then he pulled back and spanked her again.

The blow was no more powerful than before. She felt her ass jiggle on impact, too distracted and overwhelmed to care.

"One." She groaned, voice muffled by the sheets. He brought a hand to her hair, forcibly turning her head to the side so as to hear her clearly. The second strike came, and the impact rushed in a wave across her entire body. "Two."

Pleasure and pain melded together like hot wax. Shepard panted, cheek smushed against the bed as he paused again and smoothed a hand over her reddened flesh. Pressure gathered between her spread thighs, her empty cunt clenching in desperation. She wanted more, bucking against his hand.

Her voice was hoarse when she said, "Please don’t stop."

He obliged, another three strikes raining down on her like the kiss of god.

"Can I come, sir?"

He pushed two fingers into her cunt and wedged his thumb hard against her plug as though to contemplate her request. With her hands at the wheel of her own pleasure, her building climax was much easier to control. Even still, his seeking fingers drove her crazy, so desperate to be fucked she could scarcely think of anything else.

"At ten, you may come for me."

"Thank you sir," she sobbed. He spanked her again.

Six. The feeling was a golden flash of light behind her eyes.

Seven. His fingers skimmed the soaking furrow of her cunt. Shepard let out a whine as he withdrew, grinding against the powerful motor between her thighs.

Eight. Her climax threatened to overwhelm her. She managed to lift her hips away from the vibrator seconds before it was too late, crying out against the raging push and pull of sensations overwhelming her.

Nine. She writhed against the bed, knees wobbling. Thane wrapped an arm around her belly and held strong as he kissed her spine, sending a chill throughout her entire body as she waited on the vicious precipice of the final blow and the sweet release it promised.

Ten.

She couldn't tell if it was harder than the rest. She came the second his hand landed, climax overpowering her so fast it forced the breath from her lungs. Light burst behind her eyes, white hot waves washing over every part of her as Thane stuffed his fingers into her pulsing cunt and fucked her through each rippling convulsion until she collapsed, panting and spent. The wand hit the ground with a loud thump. And then he was releasing her wrists, gently maneuvering her into a more comfortable position on the bed.

She let out a feeble groan as he began to soothe her skin with cooling medi-gel. Worked up as she was, the texture of his fingertips was overwhelming in the most exquisite way; the only reality she could comprehend were his hands on her, the soft sheets beneath her, and the raging void inside her begging to be filled.

“Tell me your heart’s desire, my angel,” he said, drawing his hand up the inside of her thigh. “What would you ask of me?”

Her head was swimming. Shepard clenched her teeth and made an incoherent sound "I want you to fuck me, sir.”

Thane coaxed her onto her back and she watched as though through a fog as he tugged on his belt. His scales gleamed in the low light of Illium’s setting sun.

“Tell me again." he rasped.

His pants hit the floor and he began to stroke himself with hunger in his eyes that foretold the hurricane he was about to unleash, full lips parted with a breathy sigh as he squeezed, smoothing his natural fluid from root to tip. Shepard drank him in - every sound, every flutter of his eyelids, feeling for one second that she had regained some intangible thing from all of this, the trust and vulnerability that he gave and cultivated without reservation. She swore she’d never wanted anyone so badly in her life.

“Please," she begged. Her own voice was thick in her mouth as she opened her thighs and spread her cunt with desperate need, open and empty and soaked with desire. "Ruin me, Thane.”

The sound he made rumbled like thunder on the horizon, and then his hands were on her, dragging her bodily to the edge of the bed and spreading her wide. Her ass chafed against the sheets, breath caught in her lungs as he laid his tip against her oversensitive clit and flames erupted under her skin. Where this was going, she was certain she wouldn't survive.

"Who do you serve?"

"You, sir." She felt him at her entrance, and all thoughts fled her mind. "I serve you."

Time was immaterial. There was nothing but the stretch, the push, and the heat of him as he split her open with his gorgeous meaty prick. Her plugged ass pulsed as he filled her. Chills rushed over her in waves and she sobbed out her pleasure, gripping the sheets beneath her.

"That's it, Siha," he crooned, stroking both thumbs up the sides of her wide open cunt. "Take all of me."

Thane gripped tight to the meat of her thighs, pulling their hips flush. She was so full, fucking full that she scarcely had the space for thought.

And then he fisted one hand in the ropes at her chest and moved.

His strength took her breath away. Unable to do more than take what he gave, she gasped out sounds she didn’t recognize as her own as he began to fuck her in earnest. His grip was sure to bruise but she didn't care. Her pulse pounded in time with each echoing slap of his hips against hers, rapidly overwriting reality with unending shocks of pleasure as he filled her again and again. Absolutely no one had ever fucked her like he did.

And when he brought that vibrating wand to her clit, he didn't even wait for her to ask.

"Come for me, Siha."

Shepard came like she was purpose-built to climax at his command. She shuddered violently beneath the unrelenting motor, voice breaking around the cry of ecstasy that forced itself from her throat. The sheets came apart beneath her gripping fingers as her limbs locked up against the assault on her senses.

"Again," he ordered, shoving her straight into overstimulation.

Thane held her thighs wide open as she thrashed, his strength too much for her to beat back without stopping him entirely. Her orgasm crawled from beneath her skin like a demon, clawing at her the whole way out.

"Once more, Siha,” he panted.

She couldn't- It was too much- She opened her mouth to tell him off but he bent over her, trapping the vibrator between them as he rasped into her ear, “For me, Shepard. I want you to come for me."

The sound that left her wasn't human any longer. Her back arched off the bed as though pulled by a force beyond her comprehension. She finally came one last time, the force of her orgasm sending her to heaven and hell and back again. With whatever remaining shred of rationality she possessed, she ripped the wand from his hands and flung it away.

And then there was only him. His hands on her body, his cock packed inside her, his hips hammering her soul from her body. He fucked her so hard, so completely, with such devastating demand that she was sure she would never be fit for duty again. Whatever world she had served before didn't hold a candle to the cataclysmic pleasure he gave her. Her eyes rolled back, and she could see the infinity between stars.

Shepard groaned as he pushed deep, caging her between his arms and gripping her by the hair as he pulled her head back, his lips frantic and clumsy on her neck, her jaw, and finally, her mouth. She tasted the citric burn of his venom as his tongue pushed against hers, desirous and needy, swallowing the sounds of her desire. Her arms wrapped around him, tears stinging her eyes as he hollowed her out with more passion than she had ever known. The heat coming off him could incinerate her for all she cared. She never wanted to let him go.

Adrift on his venom and pinned beneath him, she could only hold on as he drove himself against her. She let her hands wander, pulling at his backside, sliding over his hips. Her thumbs slipped into the sensitive crimson furrows of his pelvic frills and he gasped, his pace stuttering, and spent himself with a low, ragged breath. His lips met hers in clumsy desperation as he flooded her, sparkling heat blooming in the deepest reaches of her channel. It spread through her with every uncoordinated thrust that followed, driven by the sanguine push and pull of him until everything between her legs felt coated in bright, cool warmth. The high was cosmic, ethereal, so unlike any reality she had ever known that she wept, half in pleasure, and half in regret that she could not hold on to this feeling forever. He kissed her tears away, holding her until they were both well and truly spent.

Eventually, Thane raised himself on shaky legs and withdrew. Minutes slipped by in exhausted, satiated silence after that. She sagged into the sheets as the ropes at her chest came undone, the collar at her neck fell away, and the rigid plug inside her was gently removed. There was a hand beneath her head, water at her lips. Something cool and soothing cleared the mess of fluids from between her legs. Then the sensation of being lifted as he climbed on the bed and arranged her into his lap, draping her against his chest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She was dreaming.

A warm embrace around her on a sunlit afternoon beneath the dreamy palm trees of a far-off island. Cool wind on her skin, an ocean in her ears. Someone was speaking to her; a deep, sweet voice that made her cheeks swell in a quiet smile.

"Are you awake, Siha?"

Shepard made a small sound and weakly shook her head, nuzzling against something warm. For the first time, in too long, her thoughts were at peace.

"My apologies," the voice said.

Apologies for what? Everything was perfect. Then she was moving, the sound of the sea disappearing into the warmth of rustling fabric. Her back settled against something decadent and soft. A tender hand cupped her cheek.

She cracked her sleep-heavy eyes open to find herself in another realm, lit by the warm yellow tones of a nearby lamp and little else. The sky outside was dark and dotted with the twinkling, passing lights of Nos Astra’s traffic. Thane sat beside her, a small smile on his face. He kissed the top of her head.

"I regret that I must ask you to rise soon, Shepard."

Shepard curled into the lightly scented blankets that had been tucked in around her.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Just past sunset."

She wound her arms around whatever parts of him she could reach and mumbled, "Five more minutes."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thirty minutes later, she was gently roused from sleep.

“Would you prefer to dress yourself in private?” Thane asked.

Shepard placed her tired feet on the floor and stood before him, naked as the day she was born.

“I think we’re past that,” she said with a small chuckle.

He gave her a small smile and helped her into her pants as he said “I wanted to thank you.”

Shepard blinked. "I should be thanking you.”

"We may thank each other, then. I enjoyed our time together."

Shepard attempted to conceal her blush by pulling her shirt over her head. "I bet you say that to everyone."

Thane kissed her cheek. "Even if I did, how would you know?"

It was a damn tragedy that she couldn’t spend the entire night with him.

"If I survive this… thing… I'm involved in…" she began, a sudden timidness taking root in her like a damn teenager. "I'd love to get lunch sometime."

That got a genuine chuckle out of him, and he gave her a friendly hug. Her heart leapt for but a moment.

"Perhaps," he said with a beautiful smile. "We shall see what my wife thinks.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tali was stiff as a wire, straddling a chair on the engineering deck and gripping the backrest with both hands.

"You slept with who?"

"I don't know, his profile said 'the artist formerly known as Ocean's Prayer' or something."

Tali’s luminous eyes were wide behind her mask, shoulders tensed with some kind of anticipatory excitement.

"The Ocean's Prayer? From Fornax?"

Running a hand through her hair, Shepard smiled sheepishly. "We weren't allowed to have Fornax on Arcturus, Tali."

"This isn’t Arcturus! You have your own damn ship!" She exclaimed.

"I'm sure you've noticed, but I've been a little busy-"

"Keelah, Shepard. You humans make problems out of nothing." Tali's Omni-tool glowed to life. "Let me just… there. Look."

A holo sprang up before her - a magazine cover - on which a green drell posed, the image conspicuously cropped at his waist. Tali pointed, as though the image didn’t already have Shepard’s full attention.

"This guy?"

Shepard nodded, chewing on her lip. "That's him, yeah."

"Do you have any idea how famous this guy is? Look, look-" Tali began to page through the magazine.

Just because Shepard never had Fornax didn't mean she'd never looked at porn before. There definitely should've been a paywall some pages back. She narrowed her eyes and gave Tali a mischievous look.

"Is that your personal copy?"

"You-! Shut your mouth, you have no room to talk after what you just told me," Tali shot back.

"Give me that, I want to see."

Her omni-tool pinged and Shepard flipped open the holomag.

Ocean's Prayer: the Fornax exclusive you've been waiting for - interview with the Master of Inscrutable Depths himself.

"Shepard, that man could make even the most straight-laced turian beg for mercy."

"Damn," Shepard muttered under her breath, paging through walls of text she was too dazzled to read, sprinkled with teasing photos that made her hot under the collar. Just on the memory of his touch, his voice, his massive-

Oh.

The next page opened to a full page photo. Shepard coughed on her drink.

Sere Krios is rendered by the incredible @messydiabolical. Check out AO3 for the uncensored feature :)))

#zet writes things #shrios #thane krios #this fic literally bent me in half #thank you so much messy #shepard #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction

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zet-sway · 2 years ago

Text

Fanfic: Cynosure

Or, another stream-of-consciousness Thane POV lol

[Read on AO3] - Rated E for EXTREMELY SPICY TIMES

Pairing: Thane/FShep | Rating: 18+ | Words: ~2900

The air is thin between them, but it’s perhaps the only time he doesn’t feel like he’s dying.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He’s quick to volunteer for the trip. A supply run to Omega - it’s not where he’d imagined she would spend her credits. Shepard shrugs when he asks her about it. “Council said I had to keep operations in the Terminus systems.”

There are other, better markets to supply a ship, but he does not press her for more.

Not two cycles after he shakes Shepard’s hand in the Dantius towers, the quiet isolation of space is already starting to weigh on him. He hasn’t been off Illium in some time, and Omega, dangerous as it may be, gives him an odd feeling of nostalgia. The air is stale and heavy, the streets are stained with poorly-washed refuse that sticks to his boots as they patrol the markets. In some ways, it’s easy to appreciate how blatantly this station flaunts its identity. The same seedy underbelly as Illium, stripped of all preamble. Beneath the heavy years of battle sleep, operating in this environment feels easy. He falls in step behind Shepard, alert and at the ready.

It’s too soon to tell if her attitude is confidence or naivete, but in any regard, the time spent with her is exactly the plethora of intel he’d hoped it would be. Words exchanged with strangers are direct and purposeful; her negotiations frugal, but fair. Her weapons are holstered, but cleaned and ready. Most interesting to him, however, is her body language. Shepard has the gait of a person well adapted to low-gravity, but the muscle of an earthborn human. Armored though she may be, she seems relaxed.

Overshadowed by the ludicrous rumors that she’d died for two years, she’s a walking contradiction, and a distracting one at that. Despite his attention to their surroundings, he finds himself watching her as often as he can allow. So it goes as she engages with a Batarian shopkeeper deep within the Botza district.

Ammunition and weapons. Sanitary supplies. Spare parts. Mods and materials. The shopkeeper - her name is Ubresk - offers them a bulk discount. Shepard refuses.

“Won’t need it when I’m dead,” Shepard says nonchalantly.

The shopkeeper raises a pair of brow ridges. “Planning to off yourself with enough supplies to fuel a warship?”

Thane’s world is zeroed in on the two of them. Shepard leans in and passes her omni-tool over the kiosk with a shrug. “Stealth frigate.” Ubresk’s four eyes are sharpened with unanswered questions, but Shepard won’t meet her gaze. “Lambda-2 docking bay. How quickly can you have it delivered?”

“About two hours.”

Shepard flashes a smile and pushes her hip off the counter. “Appreciate it.”

They shake hands. "I'll give Aria your regards."

And as though she did not have his full attention already, that is a surprise. Whatever Shepard's relationship with the infamous Aria T’loak, clearly, her confidence is not misplaced. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The trip passes without incident, and they board a taxi back to the Normandy. Watching her stare out the simulated windows, he allows himself a small comment.

“Far be it for me to interject, but I thought human crews employed requisition officers?”

She glances at him. “We’re not an Alliance operation.” And then she seems to think for a moment, before adding, "Besides, I get to bleed Cerberus dry.”

That earns her an authentic huff of amusement. “Fair enough.”

“We have some time to kill, you need anything while we’re here?” A grin crosses her face. “The Illusive Man’s buying.”

He takes a moment to consider and, ironically, lands on the same logic she’d expressed not long ago: “Won’t need it when I’m dead.”

“Hah,” her gaze returns to the window. “Suit yourself.”

And then her eye catches on something - the glowing neon perimeter of Omega’s Chuvost Quarter.

“Is that the red light district? Never understood why we couldn't have something like this on Arcturus.”

He blinks, processing her statement, but she doesn’t seem to mind his silence. Instead, she offers up a modicum of clarification. "Busy life. Relationships were more trouble than they were worth. Would've been nice to get off and get going."

An intrusive thought jolts through him.

Gods willing, he wants to be the one to change her mind. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The gods, as it seems, may yet smile upon him.

It's true that he hasn't worked closely with many humans, but of the ones he's known, Shepard outshines them by a mile.

Nearly always, she retains her characteristic mission-forward attitude. But now and again, she allows him a glimpse behind the curtain. And slowly, he begins to know her as a thoughtful but troubled individual. Her death, he comes to learn, was not a fallacious rumor. And the more he thinks about her, the more he wonders if he was not brought to her company by the will of Kahalira herself.

He is eager to accompany her strike forces, both on and off her personal squad, if only for the chance to debrief with her. To watch her work, and wonder over her.

By chance, one evening, they take a meal in the mess together. She even seems to enjoy their conversations, further driving his thoughts toward her, until he finds himself watching her not only to learn of her character, but the rest of her as well.

Short, blunted fingernails, scarred hands, strong arms. The neat angle of her jaw, the pale freckles across her cheeks. Air-wisped strands of hair that shift across her brow as she turns to him with laughter in her eyes, sandwich dangling from one hand. His dry humor seems to delight her.

He smiles.

She is distracting. He wants to know what her skin feels like, wants to hear what desperate sounds she might make in his arms. If she notices this, she does not care. By now it's evident: even on a simply professional level, she trusts him.

To return to the solitude of his quarters feels more and more difficult after every mission. Night after night, he entertains the idea of inserting himself into her personal space. For an unknown number of cycles, he has resisted the urge. But on this night, he succumbs. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It feels dishonest, to hide such desire behind a contrived moral dilemma. Thane is many things, but he does not consider himself a liar. Still, Shepard allows him entrance to her space with a smile.

True to her nature, she listens and validates. Gives him sound counsel, and directs him toward valuable resources. He listens to remember, because truly he does want her input on this non-urgent matter, but the true reason he is here is for any crumb of connection to her.

She's dressed simply: a dark hooded sweatshirt and a pair of standard-issue battle dress pants. Her posture is relaxed - almost vulnerable. He watches the way she moves, the soft twist of fabric around her body, the barely audible clink of dog tags beneath her shirt. His eidetic memory will feed him these visions of her, and the baser urges of his mind will imagine them sliding off her, revealing the forbidden expanses of her soft, human skin. It's difficult to ignore that her office is directly adjacent to her sleeping quarters. He tries not to linger on the thought of pushing her into the impeccably made bed just a few feet away.

Their conversation concluded, she stands to bid him goodbye.

He stands to meet her. Lingers beside her.

And endowed with Amonkira’s courage, he leans in to give her a simple kiss.

Their lips connect, just for a moment, and he pulls away to bid her goodnight. But when he meets her eyes, he finds more than just surprise.

Desire.

And in seconds, this simple gesture becomes a wildfire. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - She isn't forceful - not quite. Shepard has the quiet strength of a woman who has adapted to authority. She asks with a simple push and pull, requesting but nearly expecting him to follow along as they undress one another.

Before long, she's pushing him down onto her bed, climbing into his lap, gripping his chin, and stealing the breath straight from his mouth.

The air is thin between them, but it’s perhaps the only time he doesn’t feel like he’s dying. The heel of one palm digs painfully into his chest and he winces, but rolls his hips up into her regardless. Nothing has ever felt better than this.

Her legs are long and lean on either side of his hips, the naked heat of her grinding along his length. He's not inside her - not yet. She rolls above him like waves, kissing him with her cunt, panting with every pass of her pearl over his coronal ridge. It's the sweetest torture. The wet heat between her muscled thighs feels like the only thing that might save him from himself. Desire grips him like a vice and brings him to his knees.

With desperation on her tongue, Shepard groans into his mouth as she walks him along the edge. He can taste how close she is, can feel it in the way her splayed fingers twitch against his back. Her thighs shake.

"Fuck," she whispers. "I'm-"

It doesn't matter that this memory will never fade - he's not ready to leave it. Not ready to part with this image of his Siha, his angel, with a blush spread wide across her chest, her mouth gasping against his, her body trembling as though decades of discipline and rigor were not enough to prepare her for the way she will crest this wave in his arms.

With the last shreds of rationality he possesses, he grips her thighs hard. His fingernails leave crescent-shaped divots in her flesh, forcing her to slow, holding her just shy of the contact she’s chasing. She pitches backward as he bucks against her, tipping her balance in his favor. In moments he's gained the upper hand, rolling them both, folding her over and back until he is atop her.

All she can offer is a surprised gasp, her eyes fixated on his as he pushes her thighs back, back, back, until she's well and truly open to him. Shepard's knees settle in a wide spread, the gleaming jewel between her legs laid open before him. In this position, he can easily overpower her, but that was never his goal.

"If you wanted to fuck me, you could have just said so." she pants out.

"Mmh," is all he offers, taking himself in hand and drawing the tip of his cock down her seam. "Indulge me, Siha."

And then he’s sinking inch for precious inch into her depths. The heat of her makes his ears ring, his vision blurring around the edges, and then he's hilted deep inside her, wrapped in the molten silk of her body.

Her voice breaks, caught in the back of her throat.

"Fuck."

All he can do is echo her sentiment, a groan pulled from deep within his chest. If he's lucky, he'll make her crazy before he loses himself.

He paces himself. Allows his mind to wander for the fleeting chance it might hold him over. Beneath him, Shepard is alive with motion. Her body jolts each time their hips meet, arms gasping and shoving the sheets like each thrust is too much to bear. Her head tilts back, sapphire light gleaming off the sweat beaded on her throat.

In, breathe, out, breathe, in, breathe, out - over and over, until his heart measures the seconds between each deep thrust. She claws at him, urging him closer. Her legs are heavy as she attempts to leverage her hips into him. But strong as she is, he holds the advantage. Thane digs his thumbs just behind the jutting edges of her hips and holds her down. With Arashu's mercy, he may hold out just long enough to make her scream.

"Christ," she bites out. "Fuck me."

To this, he relents with an inward smile quickening his pace just enough to satisfy her for the moment. Shepard was never the patient kind. He burns with the need to take her to the edge of reason. To show her pleasures she could never hope to feel without a partner devoted to the task. To drive her to madness second by second, until she aches, truly lost beneath his hands.

She reaches for herself, as he knew she would, and he snatches her wrist, kissing her fingertips one at a time. When she squirms, he takes them into his mouth, sucking at her middle and ring fingers as though she were a drell, letting his split tongue drag over the distinctly human divide between them. Brilliant green eyes watch him beneath sweat-kissed strands of hair, lush lips parted in surprise.

Halfway to undone, he thinks. Gods as his witness, he will love her so senselessly that she weeps for more.

He sets her two fingers back atop her mound and watches as she begins to stroke herself, knowing his saliva will do untold things to all the little nerves between her legs. His hands settle around the hard softness of her pressed-open thighs as he settles into an easy rhythm.

There’s freedom in this. Her soft human nakedness laid out before him, the endless fight to prolong her pleasure until she can’t feel anything but him. The hypnotic, desperate slide of his ridges into her cunt, drawn out and deep, beneath the measured swirl of her fingers over her gleaming center.

She breathes his name as her eyes slide closed. She could not hope to know what such a blatant display of trust could mean to him.

There's no end to the pleasure he will relive when this moment is gone. As her knees tense against him, his toes curl against the sheets. She's incredible, from her heavy-lidded gaze to the raging heat gripping his cock. Each thrust is a prayer, a mantra, a physical manifestation of the deep need and love and lust he cannot help but give her, unendingly, maddeningly. Her fingertips brush against his shaft and he nearly breaks, the long, deep pace now lost to the chase of irresistible pleasure at her demand. In a way, she has beaten him at his own game. The desire to drag out her lust proves too much for him. He falls over her, covering her, lips connecting with her neck as he snaps his hips against her, driving his cock into her wanting body with the desperation of a man who hasn’t known the touch of another in a decade. One arm circles around his back, blunted human fingernails biting into the sensitive frills down his flank.

Her breath is hot at his ear, his name on her lips as she begs, "Please, Thane, please-"

One hand wrenches beneath her knee, pushing it back into her shoulder to give her better access. He can feel her fingertips moving with vigor against her cunt and she breaks.

There's nothing subtle about the way her body feels when she comes on his cock. Her insides ripple like waves, the strength of her taking his breath. His pace falters, his body slapping against her at a desperate, stuttering pace as he stumbles, gasps, and falls over the edge with her. The feeling is a blast wave to his senses, black blooming behind his eyes until there's nothing left but the huff of her breath at his cheek and the incredible, breathtaking, impossible clench and pulse of heat and pleasure between them.

Seconds stretch into eternity as he tumbles with her, release flooding her in abundance. It gathers in every available space inside her, squeezes out along the length of him, smearing between their thighs as he thrusts into her as long as his body can manage. Her ankles lock behind him. The possessive grip of her hands is nothing against the blood-curdling climax they share. And just when he thinks he's spent, she comes a second time.

His head is spinning, his body shaking, the base of his cock expanding within her. She lets out a low moan as he fills her like no human ever could, swollen knot forcing every last drop of white-hot desire into her quivering cunt.

Their bodies are tied. Heaven and hell could fall upon them and their last moments would only be bliss.

With some effort, they manage to find a comfortable position, interlocked for the time being. He can feel every twitch and quiver of her body around him, milking his knot for all it's worth. So intense it feels like she's strangling him, robbing him blind of every sensation that isn't the throbbing pulse of pleasure through his limbs and heart. Chills rake down his spine.

She strokes his trapezius as she murmurs, “You're amazing."

And for a time, their world is nothing but peace and pleasure. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Hours later, when she is fast asleep in his arms, he gazes out of her skylight ceiling and wonders how a man like himself was ever worthy enough of such a moment. Laid bare of her armor and authority, she seems almost delicate in this light - gleaming waves from her empty fish tanks washing over her in soft blue hues. How ironic that her cabin would be illuminated by a facsimile of Kalahira's depths.

He cannot help himself. Perhaps in his mind, or perhaps under whispered breaths, he prays. Offers thanks to his gods, and to the sleeping angel beside him. The rest of his days may not be enough to thank her for all the ways she has changed his life in so short a time.

If all that he has ever been is a sinner, at least for tonight, he has been made whole.

#zet writes things #shrios #thane krios #thane #shepard #mass effect fanfiction #fyi there's knotting in this fic just in case anyone is super not into that (no pun intended)#ive actually written a lot over the last few months but capitalism is slowly but surely wearing me down lol

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