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Citadel: The Party	By : Hyperion Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 60772 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all related characters are property of Bioware and EA Games. I do not profit from this in any way.

Chapter List
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There was nothing even slightly real about the Citadel’s skyline. Holographic clouds, artificial atmosphere, neon lights and omni-phones that glittered along the streets. But it was beautiful. Few disputed that.

He left Tali and Kasumi to their own devices, and they seemed happily occupied with each other. From the sounds below, the rest were playing a game of Skyllian Five. The second guest bedroom had a balcony with an unmatched view of the Citadel’s skyline. The perfect spot to lie back and relax.

The clone wasn’t sure what was going to happen come morning. Presumably they’d all head back to the Normandy and take off, but from that point on he’d have to work his own agenda. Most of these people would die, if they were lucky. It was a shame. They’d been very entertaining guests throughout the evening.

The balcony was not empty. She was there, gazing out into the sky.

If things went south and he had to kill someone to get out of this place, there was a hierarchy of threats in the apartment that ranged from those who wouldn’t last five seconds against him to those with the ability to tear him apart mano-a-mano. Right at the bottom, there was the cripple and the comm specialist. Slightly above them were the quarian and the archaeologist. They weren’t threats. At the top were the krogan, the convict….and the Justicar.

If he had to pick one person in the apartment that he’d never want to fight, it would be her. Wrex had centuries of experience on the battlefield. Jack had incredible biotic powers. Vakarian had unmatched accuracy with any weapon you could throw his way. Samara had all three. If he had to go head-to-head with her, he knew he’d lose.

If she had heard his approach, she gave no sign of it. She glanced back as he stepped onto the balcony and exchanged a nod of acknowledgement.

“Mind if I sit?”

“It’s your apartment, Commander. Make yourself comfortable.”

He settled back into the lounge chair and observed her silently. Her skintight suit shimmered in the night, as did her cerulean eyes when the light fell on them.

“Not much for parties?”

She turned and smiled. “I am not much for alcohol and dancing. But I have enjoyed being here, Shepard. It was nice to see all these people again, especially at a time like this.”

“I hear you,” he replied.

“Thank you for inviting me here, Shepard,” she said. “I am not typically invited to many parties. Between you and me, I think people are afraid I might kill them.”

Her delivery was so deadpan he had to fight to keep his face straight. “Yeah, I can see how that might dampen the mood. You didn’t come up here just to brood about how scary you are, did you?”

“Was I brooding? My apologies. I was thinking of Thane, actually.”

“Thane?” The drell. Leng had killed him when Udina let Cerberus into the Citadel.

“Yes. The last time I was in this part of the Citadel was when we were searching for his son, Kolyat. Do you remember?”

“I remember,” he said. He had no clue what she was going on about. “Didn’t it break your Code, working with an assassin?”

“True, Thane was a killer. I believe his philosophy of the self would have led him to disagree, but most would concur that he spent his life ending those of others. But I decided not to kill him. His victims were the greedy and the murderous, not the innocents that I am sworn to defend. I might have slain his victims myself for their crimes, had they come before me. So was Thane truly an agent of injustice?”

“No offense, but that sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps I am. The Code is etched in black and white, but those charged with enforcing it are not. Perhaps I saw a man who sought to save his child from damnation, and I let him seize the chance I had lost so long ago with Morinth. Was that wrong? The Code tells us to always do what is just. With a common bandit or slaver, that is simple. I would execute them without hesitation and rest well knowing that the galaxy was a fraction more just without them. But it is not always so simple. The Code demanded death for Thane’s actions, but his body was already killing him. What good would have come from hastening his demise? Perhaps I felt it more just to let time extinguish what little life he had left than to slay a dying man and doom his only son.”

It made a certain amount of sense, he had to admit. “Most people couldn’t handle having to make those big decisions. Who lives, who dies…..”

“Most,” she replied, “Not all.” She turned away from the view, resting her shoulders against the railing. “Soldiers must make hard choices on every battlefield. How do you cope with the consequences of your actions?”

The hardest choice the clone had ever had to make in his short life was to play along with this charade and hope that the Normandy’s crew didn’t figure out the real Shepard was dead, and there still existed the possibility that it might turn out to be the last big decision he ever made. “I find distractions. Things to keep myself busy. Ways to forget for a while.”

“Keeping busy.” Her voice seemed amused. “Does that include the way you and Jack ‘kept busy’ earlier this evening?”

“Where did you get that from?”

“The woman herself.”

“Jack told you we….?”

“Not in so many words, but you know Jack. Subtlety is not her style. She dropped many hints in conversation, but everyone seemed too drunk to pick up on them. I could tell that she was getting on Miranda’s nerves----“and there Samara paused, realization dawning on her as she turned to face Shepard. “Commander, you didn’t.”

His expression was sheepish. “Guilty as charged.”

She turned away and gazed back at the skyline, but she did seem a tad impressed. “Jack and Miranda? I imagine it was not easy to arrange that.”

As he recalled, it had basically arranged itself, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Aren’t you Justicars forbidden from thinking about sex?” he posed in jest. “You shouldn’t be thinking about me and Jack and Miranda screwing around, right?”

She tilted her head to her shoulder. “The Code cannot possibly moderate our thoughts, Shepard. Even Justicars are still people, as curious as anyone else.”

“Curious, Samara?” he grinned.

“Not in that way,” she hastily added. It was amusing to see her on the backfoot for once. “It is just not something I have personally experienced.”

"You've never....?"

"With men? Certainly. But your species made contact with the rest of the galaxy only a few decades ago," she said, "I took my vow nearly 600 years before that. A few decades may be a long time to you, but it is a very short time to my people. I have barely known humanity, much less ever taken a human into my bed."

“And the ones you’ve known since we showed up are, what, scared of you?”

“Most,” she replied.. “Not all.” She flashed him an impish grin, and he was actually taken aback by the sight of it. “ I recall a certain human who proposed I break my vows in a more enjoyable fashion. Do you remember that, Commander?”

Not bad, old dog. He couldn’t imagine the balls it must have taken for the old Shepard to put the moves on Samara.

“Vividly,” he said slowly. How had that worked out?

“Vividly?” Samara repeated, smiling slyly. “I believe it is now you who must keep your thoughts in check, Shepard.”

“I’m just a person too, as curious as anyone else…..,” he quipped, firing her own words back at her.

She swiveled away and looked out into the night, giving him a nice view of her ass as she did. It had to be deliberate. She didn’t have to turn the way she did, or swivel her hips like that, or fold her hands across her chest to squash her breasts closer. Her voice didn’t have to sound that way.

And yet she was doing all of those things.

“Curious, Commander? About me?”

He didn’t care if it was some asari trick. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Curious about what a night in my bed would feel like?”

Every word out of her mouth was setting him on edge, and he didn’t know he’d gotten up until he was right behind her. They played tricks on your mind, the asari, even the ones that called themselves holy----

“I must confess to some curiosity of my own, Commander.”

And then his hands were on her, grasping her by the hips as he breathlessly took in every inch of her form---

“What would a human man do to me?”

He pulled her close and pressed his mouth against her neck, uncaring of the consequences. A small, subtle gasp escaped her lips, but she made no other gesture of resistance; not when his hot breath grazed her ear, not when his arms wrapped around her torso, not until his hungry hand shot up to grope one of her breasts.

"Shepard," she murmured, with just a hint of reproach, but he could have sworn he felt her nestle closer to him. She made no attempt to push his hand away, and he kept squeezing her breast. The loaded silence was punctuated only by her heavy breathing.

"Samara," he replied, a low whisper in her ear, "give me half a chance and you won't walk straight for a week."

Samara giggled --- actually giggled --- and the sound of it put him at ease. Not many men could brag of fondling a Justicar and getting away with it, and he had one giddy as a schoolgirl in his arms. He was hard again (who wouldn't be?) and pressed as close to him as she was, she had to be able to feel it straining against his pants, resting against her rear. Yet there was no more reproach in her voice, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

But then the moment passed, and she turned to face him, placing her hands gently on his chest to push him away. She did not seem angry, but her tone had reverted to implacable steel. "The attention is flattering, Shepard, but you made me this offer once before. I can only tell you now what I told you then. My vows are sacred. I cannot break them."

He took a step back and raised his hands in the air. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, though,” he said, and Samara smiled for a second. But even the biggest hard-on in the world wasn’t worth getting killed. Not when he was so close.

"Our vows tell us that when we swear our lives to the Code, we are reborn in the eyes of the Goddess. Mind and body are made anew, and we become as virgins, and that is how we must remain. Even one such as I, who has borne children. To the Goddess, I am a virgin now, and I must be a virgin until the day I die. Those pursuits of the flesh that would take my virginity away, I am oathbound to forsake." She paused for a second, tilting her head gently to the side, curious to what his reaction would be. "But.....only those pursuits."

Ok, now she was definitely doing it on purpose.

Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Did she want him to do what he thought she wanted him to do? Dared he risk it?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Samara,” he said, tossing caution to the wind and steeling his nerves, “if I pulled you away from here, threw you on that bed and fucked you in the ass, would I live to see the morning?”

"I don't know, Commander," she said, a twinkle in her eye, "are you brave enough to find out?"

That was all the invitation he needed. With the speed of a viper, he grabbed her by the hips and hauled her over his shoulder, and the legendary lawbringer yelped in surprise as she was carried away in a fireman’s handle and tossed onto the soft mattress of the adjacent room.

He fell upon her furiously and she met him, pawing at each other like animals as they blindly tugged at their clothing. She slipped her hands under his shirt and explored the form of a species she had never experienced before, and he slowly unzipped the top of her Justicar’s uniform. The zipper reached all the way down to her belly, and when it had run its course, he placed his thumbs at her collars and pulled open her top. Three children had suckled at her breasts, and centuries later, they looked just as they had when she had nurtured them: ripe and heavy, and begging for his tongue.

Samara pulled herself up and pushed him down, climbing on top and pulling his shirt of him. His fingers played with her teats as she pulled him in to stick her tongue down his throat, while her fingers clumsily fumbled with his pants. Eventually, she figured out what to do and his organ came out to play. Breaking off the kiss, she took his cock between her soft hands and watched as it expanded in her grip.

"Not what you expected?" His murmur was buried in her fragrant skin. The sickly-sweet aroma of ceremonial oils clung to her flesh, and he breathed it in deep.

Her fingers were wrapped around his shaft, her thumb running the length and gently pressing the tip as if to test an appliance. "I didn't know what to expect," she admitted. The thousand-year-old novice. "But my curiosity is piqued."

He saw no point in playing it safe. He'd brought her along this far; there was no reason the rest of the distance shouldn't go his way. His grip on her hips grew firmer as he pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her chest, his tongue and lips roughly assaulting her breasts and nipples. He took one between his teeth and squeezed it just enough to hurt, and she quivered like jelly in his grip. His fingers dug into her round, fleshy buttocks, grinding her body against his. One hand snaked down to her pussy, but she smacked his wrist gently and he pulled it away.

"No," she murmured, a firm undertone to it, "not there. Never there."

He was fine with that. She was a Justicar. One hole would be just as novel an experience as the other.

She slipped off the bed as smooth as a serpent, dropping down on her knees by its side. He followed, sitting by the edge, and she took her place between his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as his cock rested against her breasts. Her tongue slithered out for a brief second to tease his tip, and his enthusiastic response drew it out again. The clone took charge again, gripping the crests at the back of her head and firmly easing her down onto him. Samara's lips parted and her mouth grew full, moaning around his meat as he exhaled at the feeling of her tongue dancing around it.

Her hands shifted place away from his thighs to lift her heavy breasts and ease them around his shaft, cushioning his swollen member in soft, warm pillows of fat. His hand moved further down to massage her neck, encouraging her to continue, and she proceeded to suck him off like she'd been doing it for centuries --- which she quite possibly had ---, mashing her tits together around him to massage his sensitive flesh while her mouth pleasured him.

The clone gripped the sides of Samara’s head and thrust his hips forward, rising sharply away from the bed and ramming his cock into the back of her throat.

“Mmmpfff----“

Spittle sprayed from Samara’s lips at the sudden escalation, but the clone did not let up for a second, sliding Samara’s head up and down his length harder and harder, vigorously skullfucking the asari matriarch as she frantically squeezed and squashed and mashed her breasts around his cock to keep up with his pace. He did not let up, not even for a second. If she wanted the human experience, she’d get it.

The clone pulled her head back and away and withdrew his cock from her mouth, and Samara drew deep heaving gasps of breath as the evil Shepard’s cock throbbed in the air in front of her face. Half of his shaft, the half that had explored her mouth, glistened with her saliva. He stroked himself off rapidly, and her lips fell open, exposing her tongue as she waited for him to spill his seed for her.

“Let me taste it,” she pleaded, her voice bearing a slight rasp from the stress her throat had just been subjected to.

The image of Samara swallowing his load as he came all over her face and tits was incredibly tempting, and a few more strokes would have sent him beyond the point of no return, but he caught himself. There was a better prize to be had.

“Get back on the bed,” he ordered, and Samara jumped off the floor. He caught her by the hips as she fell onto the sheets and flipped her over in one swift motion, pressing her face down into the pillow and pulling her ass up into the air. His hands massaged her buttocks slowly, and the sound of her yelp was muffled when his thumb slipped inside her asshole. The muffled sounds grew louder and longer when he slipped another finger inside, exploring the hole, twisting his digits around to see if it could accommodate him.

The clone climbed onto the bed and mounted the justicar, his legs on either side of her hips while his cock dangled below him, the tip barely resting against the curve of her ass. He stroked himself for a few more seconds, to spread the coating of saliva along his length. He was not inconsiderate. She was going to need some lubrication.

“Remember how I said you wouldn’t walk straight for a week?” he said, prying her cheeks apart and ramming his way into her ass.

Samara shrieked into the pillow, stiffening from the pain of the sudden penetration, but growing slacker by the second as pleasure rushed in to replace it. The clone moved slowly and methodically, sawing in and out of her, burying a little more of himself every time he did. Her fingers spasmed and clutched the sheets as he thrust. Samara shifted her head, resting it against the side of the pillow, gasping incoherently as the clone’s invasion widened her backdoor with every inch that went in. Relentlessly he thrust, until his entire length was lodged deep inside her, and he let it reside in her overstuffed hole for a few moments as her mind tried to catch up with the experiences of her body. Patches of the pillowcase was translucent with drool; all of Samara’s decorum had vanished along the course of her ravishment.

“Fuck me,” she gasped, once she had fully processed the feeling of the log rammed up her ass. “Fuck me.”

He complied with her request and hammered away, slamming in and out of her rectum like a jackhammer. He was brutal and unstoppable, and anyone watching him in action would have thought he wanted to ensure no one other than a native of Tuchanka would ever enjoy her ass again. The little ring around her ass was red and sore, but the look on Samara’s face suggested she barely even felt that. Her fingers dug deep into the fabric of the mattress as her body convulsed with rampant pleasure. She wasn’t really involved in her own fucking; unable to match the clone’s powerful pace, she was content to be his plaything, lying back and exulting in the pleasures of being ravaged.

“Shep-Shepard----“

As he opened his mouth to answer her blurted call, the reason for it became clear. Her asshole tightened around his cock as she came violently, shaking on the mattress, and the tightness squeezing down on his length became too much to bear. Surrendering to the feeling, he came as well, firing a hot jet down Samara’s rectum, flooding her bowels with warm, sticky seed. His hips jerked into her for long seconds as he emptied himself, and when he was done the fluids that he had filled her tight passage with helped ease his retreat from her. He popped out of her ass with a sound like a bottle uncorked, and a few drops of his semen dribbled out of her. Samara collapsed onto her stomach, and the clone collapsed on top of her. His waning erection pressed into the small of her back as seed slowly dripped out of her sore rectum, and the only sounds in the room were the mismatched, asynchronous notes of two people struggling to catch their breath.

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

“Give it to me.”

The hapless salarian treating Shepard’s wounds was sure his medical license would be revoked by the end of the week.

“Commander, as……as your physician of record, I have an ethical responsibility to ensure your safety. If you leave now, you could be a danger to y-yourself, or to o-others….” His voice trailed off into a small squeak as Shepard’s bruised face darkened.

The C-Sec officer who had brought Shepard in spoke up. “Commander, maybe the doc’s right---“

“If I stay here, I lose my ship,” Shepard cut him off, “That’s not going to happen.” He ordered the doctor again, his tone more unforgiving than before. “Give it to me.”

The turian and the salarian exchanged a loaded look. Humans. Always more trouble than they were worth.

The doctor held in his hand a golden vial. Contained inside it was an adrenaline shot, but designed to kickstart a krogan’s dual hearts. Anyone else who took it ran the risk of a massive heart attack.

“Commander----“

Shepard snatched the vial from his fingers and jammed the point into his thigh, exhaling harshly as it emptied into his bloodstream. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled, but waved away the C-Sec officer when he tried to help. He pulled himself back up and stumbled again, and again and again, but eventually he could walk on his own. His body felt like it was seconds away from tearing apart at the seams, but he could finally move of his own volition, and he’d been pumped with enough painkillers to reduce the waking agony to a dull throb in the back of his skull. It wouldn’t last long, but with any luck it would last just long enough.

“Did you get what I told you to bring?”

The C-Sec officer nodded apprehensively. In the trunk of his skycar was a small arsenal of guns and ammunition, enough for a small military team. The spirits alone knew what Shepard planned to do with them.

Shepard flexed his fingers, making sure they were stable enough to hold and fire a gun.

“Then I guess we’re done here,” he said, “We’re headed to Tiberius Towers.”

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

The clone watched lazily as Samara dressed herself, squeezing her curves back into that tight suit. He had a new erection that strained against the sheets, and it was a miracle he could still maintain one after all the fucking of the night. Samara wanted to satisfy her curiosity, and so after he had finished with her ass, he had let her lick the ejaculate that had leaked out onto his cock. Perhaps the memory of that had sent the blood rushing down below once again. Or perhaps the tryst with Samara had sent his sex drive into overdrive the way nailing Liara had done.

"I can still walk straight," she teased.

He gestured at his cock, hard again and ready for more. "We can work on that."

For a split second, she seemed like she was seriously considering it, but the moment passed and she shook her head. “Do not lead me too far into temptation, Commander. In the heat of the moment, I might forget my vows.”

“Well, if you ever feel like breaking those oaths, you know who to call.”

A sultry smile decorated Samara's face. "I always keep my oaths, Shepard," she said, zipping up her outfit, "if the future is kind, perhaps the time will come when you can help me keep them again."
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Citadel: The Party