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The Auction Where Everyone Wins	By : Mayamahal Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 3868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, just Tanith and the smut. I don't do this for money and get none.

Chapter List
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He was moving. She could hear careful footsteps, footsteps made audible a-purpose, followed by the sound of clink glass and the pour of liquid. He was trying to be polite, she guessed, instead of sneaking up on her and just throwing her down-

-and why am I disappointed he didn't do that?

She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop shaking. He had stepped closer, there was a brushing caress across her upper back, a soft purr of approval.

"Your scan seemed so exaggerated," came the voice above her; he was as tall as she could have wanted. "I did not expect you to be everything it claimed you'd be." His caress drifted down her spine, around and in at her waist, gripping gently before skimming the round, smooth curve of her hip.

She expected it to go south, literally, from there, but he surprised her, his three-fingered hands gripping at her shoulders to gently, insistently pull her around to face him. For some stupid, childish reason, she dropped her eyes, unable to look at him, shaking in her high-heels and this expensive dress, wondering what the hell she was going to say if he made her do something she didn't want-

"Your expression warrants an explanation on your part, but I think I can guess," came the droll, amused response to her visual avoidance. "You have never done this before. And by 'this', I mean put yourself up for auction for sexual activity, or ..." He drew a knuckle up her neck, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look up at him. "Mated with someone outside your species."

The words seemed to settle into her cheeks, making them burn red as she finally let her eyes take him in.

She inhaled sharply, surprised again.

Turian fetish (which she fully admitted, now, that she had) notwithstanding, this fellow was a handsome one. He was older, much more along in years than Garrus Vakarian, with dark eyes and darker coloring, his clan markings blazing white on plates that bordered on black. He was broader in the shoulder and chest, and a touch taller, the suit he wore accenting both with lean lines and dark fabric; the Turian equivelant to a human suit, cut and tailored to fit even with his leg-spurs, pinstripes an echo to his own personal markings. His taste was impeccable.

His chuckle resonated through his chest and through her; while she had stared up at him, he had pulled her closer.

"Mmm. I was right. How delightful," he murmured, the knuckle under her chin stroking along her jaw, finger uncurling to scrape a sharp talon lightly around the edge of her ear. "Human faces are delightfully easy to read. How do they say it?" He leaned close, feeling the shudder ripple through her as his touch affected her so easily. "Like an open book."

He set down his glass to free both of his hands, both coming up to cup her face, peering down at her like she was the most delectable thing he'd seen all year. She bit her lip when she felt his breath feather across her cheek, feeling herself respond to this whole situation with arousal, the desire sharp and stabbing, catching her off-guard.

His smile was slow and almost sly, nostrils flaring a little.

Now she felt like cursing. Stupid Turian sense of smell-

"Are you going to speak with these lips, soft-skin?" he murmured, low voice reverberating through her bones, touching her mouth with careful thumbs. "Or should I expect more articulate responses from your other lips?"

That had her blushing harder than before, Tanith squirming from out of his embrace, taking a step back, stealing the glass he'd abandoned nearby. Her gait was smooth, she was thankful she didn't stumble as she wandered away from him, taking him in, thinking about what to say, what to ask. She took a sip from his glass, ignoring his expanding grin.

"You seem to know a lot about human anatomy," she said simply, stopping at the hearth to eye him from a distance, examining the lean length of him, the shape his body made against the lights of the city.

He's big, even for a Turian, she thought.

"Unlike you," he drawled, though his manner and tone were polite, "I'm happy to assure you that I've done this before." He meandered over to the large, many-pillowed bed. "Many times, in fact."

She took another drink. "At this particular convention, or...?"

Her companion shrugged. "Hardly. It was a lovely thing to discover, to be sure; it's the biggest convention of its kind. Humans are still fairly new to our universe, after all; we've only just begun to understand your many uses, and appreciate your many ... attributes."

She was blushing again. Clearing her throat, she lifted her chin, trying to stay brave. "Oh really? And what is it that you ... appreciate?"

"Myself in particular, or do you mean the Turian population at large? Or perhaps, just the ones here at the convention?" His mandibles were flaring wide in an unabashed grin.

Tanith gestured, face on fire. "You, of course!" Can I blush any harder?

He was quiet a long while, still grinning, amused beyond reason and quite at ease. After a moment, he leaned back against the bed, braced on his hands, and tilted his head at her."If I tell you," he rumbled, "Will you remember that you have a contract to keep with me?"

"No."

That shook his tree a little bit, Tanith was pleased to notice; his smile faded, but instead of looking angry, he looked intrigued. For whatever reason, this both tickled her and made him even more attractive.

She gave a little shrug and stepped over to him, taking her time to saunter a little; it was easy to feel sexy, she realized, when everything about your very species turned your audience on. When she was close enough, she reached out to run her palm over his knee, stepping between his thighs, spreading them to stand between them. He was doing that noise again that sounded somewhat between a purr and a growl.

He understood that he wasn't supposed to move; he stayed still as her palms both brushed each of his thighs, curious, feeling the give of his plates, the tendon, the strong shape of him. She gripped his hips, pressing her thumbs into his pelvis, feeling the very architecture of him, listening as his purr grew louder. Her eyes widened as she caught the sight of ... something else, beneath his clothes, also growing. Flushing, she looked up at him, his eyes warm even with his amused expression.

Concentrating on her examination of him, she ran her trembling hands up his chest, to his throat, stroking back and around the edge of his cowl, only to bring her palms back to his neck. She'd never been this close to a Turian before, let alone touched one; she wanted to soak as much of it in as she could.

His mandibles fluttered a little when she brushed them with her fingertips, so she made sure to do it again, noticing he was especially responsive when her touch lingered at the tips, and again when her stroking touch worked around the underside of his fringe. The whole time, his eyes never left her, his gaze sharp and clear, like he could see through her actions and knew what it was she really wanted. But … just in case…

She cleared her throat again, fiddling with a fold of fabric along his leg without realizing it. "I posted that contract," she murmured, "for a variety of reasons, the most important one being... well, research." When he tilted his head at her, askance, she rolled her eyes and dropped her gaze. "You aren't the only one with a fetish for different species."

With a laugh that was both deep-bodied and soft, the Turian wound both arms about her waist and drew her against him, leaning back and pushing off so that they were both propelled back into the bed. She squeaked in surprise and squirmed in his grip, flustered and startled and not at all dignified. When she opened her mouth to protest, a sleek, textured tongue found its way inside, a firm hand closing in her hair to keep her in place as he gave her a long, slow, sensuous kiss.

Turian mouth plates had some give, she knew, but this was the first time she realized how much. With a texture like soft leather, his 'lips' were almost, almost, as pliable as hers, though without protruding as hers did. They opened and molded to her mouth, coaxing and swallowing gasp after soft, breathless sigh, teasing at her tongue with his own, drawing her out, daring her to do the same until, with a groan of his own, she brushed the fine edges of his pointed teeth, traced the inside of his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and stroked long and slow along the roof of his mouth.

When at last they drew apart, Tanith was panting, hair disheveled, and her Turian was in a similar state; suit ruffled, lids a little heavier, breathing also quickened a pace. He shifted against her, the shape of his arousal brushing her bare thigh through the fabric of his pants. She bit her lip and all but groaned, pressing herself back into him, lifting a thigh to wrap around his leg. She had wanted this for too long, too curious and shy, and it struck her, somewhere, at how strange this all should have been to her. Instead, she was so horny she could barely see straight.

This had better not become a habit.

He chuckled in delight, running a hand up her leg, blazing a trail of sensation up her thigh, pushing her skirt slowly higher, and higher. "One of my favorite things about you humans," he rumbled. "Not even the Asari are as sensitive as your species is..."

To prove his point, he rolled her to her back, drew her knee up a few inches along his side, and bucked against the apex of her thighs.

With a cry, Tanith threw her head back and arched into him, her fingers digging into the upper part of his arms. She was delirious with need, her body aching and hungry, her sex wet, soaking easily through her panties. To her embarrassment, the surge of arousal that followed his actions made him flare his nostrils again, and this time he gave her a full, unabashed grin.

"Mmm, yes," he purred, rolling his clothed hips into her damp, fabric-covered sex. "So very, very sensitive." He lowered his head to her exposed throat, opening his mouth to graze sharp teeth along her skin.

A moan escaped her, eyes fluttering shut, and she rolled her hips into him, sharp and strong. His answering grunt brought another surge of moisture, and she gasped when he drew back, leaving her cold and lost.

His departure was momentary; one glance at his face and she knew he wasn't going to leave her there. Talons scored her hips as he pushed up her dress and snagged her panties, drawing them down her legs and tossing them over the edge of the bed. Then he was back, his mouth pressing to hers, rough tongue seeking entry as he pressed one flailing human wrist to the bed, his other hand drawing patterns along the inside of her thigh with talons angled just so.

When he brushed the damp, over-hot folds of her sex, Tanith jerked against the bed, breathing hard and squirming. "Careful-" she breathed against his ear, even though she knew, of the two of them, he probably had a better idea of how to handle her than she did. His responding rumble was reassuring, however, and she forced herself to relax the fraction it took to unclench her thighs from around his waist.

His touch was perfect; he didn't stray to the often first-to-be-greeted clitoris, but instead slipped his talon into her wet, tight entrance the first chance he got. Her whimper was indecent enough to make her flush, and the effect it had on him was fairly profound; he growled sharply into the curve of her neck, and for the first time, she felt the true pin-prick of sharp teeth.

He mumbled something into her skin, about her delightful responses or something, before adding a second digit to the first.

Her thighs fell completely open, hips lifting into his touch as she gave a soft, keening moan.

"Please, please, don't-" she began, but she couldn't remember what she was trying to beg him for. He began to thrust is hand, stroking her within, curving his fingers just so and driving her wild with his firm, suggestive pace. Panting, she dug the nails of her free hand into his shoulder, arching her back and thrusting her hips into him. Her release was quick and abrupt, and if she'd had the brains to think so, she'd have been a little embarrassed.

She came back to the world to find him stretched out next to her, watching her with a look of admiration and smug satisfaction. Post-orgasmic and relaxed for the first time in weeks, she did the first thing that came to mind: she wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him.

His mandibles widened in a small grin, his hand moving to brush the hair from her eyes before straying back, pulling at hair pins until her knot came loose, and the whole thick, curly mass fell about her ears in a sable cascade. It seemed to fascinate him, her tresses, and he combed through a few times experimentally. She closed her eyes, giving in to the simple, sensual tug.

"So tell me about this other Turian," he said after several moments, talons moving down to unbutton her dress. "If I'm to help you with this … research … it may benefit us both if I knew a bit more about him."

She watched him idly, shifting to accommodate him. She considered her words. "He's military, and a cop," she stated. "A sniper too. Honest, ridiculously hard working, and painfully loyal."

Her lover snorted. "Favorite color?"

"Blue. I think."

The last button was undone. Rough palms parted the fabric, seeking her skin beneath and soon she was bare to him. Hating herself for trembling like a virgin, her arms crossed over her chest as he drew the dress away and tossed it aside. He nudged her shoes off and skimmed his hands up her thighs, only to slowly draw down her stockings.

When he was finished, he pulled her wrists aside and pinned them above her head, rumbling happily as he caressed her with his eyes, taking her in. Still completely clothed, he moved to kneel between her thighs, using his knees to open her legs, rocking his hips against hers. It was a simple expression of dominance, really; he had the upper-hand in this scenario, clothed while she was not, pinning her in place with both his grip and the weight of his body.

The elegant eroticism of it all had Tanith panting, a resurgence of wetness between her legs that had her squirming against the bed, an arousal so intense that she could smell it. And of course, so could he; she saw his nostrils flare again, and he groaned happily above her.

"What do they call you, human?" he purred, lowering himself to press the shape of his erection through his clothing and into her hot skin.

Her lips felt dry. When she licked them, she felt him twitch against her.

"Tanith," she replied quietly, her thighs shifting around his hips. He continued to look at her like a predator, his eyes straying again and again to the bare, unmarred flesh along her neck and shoulder.

"Tanith," he echoed. He transfered her wrists to one hand, the other moving down between their hips, dropping his head lower to brush teeth along the edge of her jaw. "Tanith, I'm going to fuck you now, and even if you tell me stop once I'm inside you," she shuddered as he paused to run his tongue slowly down her vulnerable throat, "...it will be physically impossible at that point for me to do so."

He rolled his pelvis against hers, running the tip of his exposed, bare cock along the wet seam of her sex. She bit back a moan, staring up at him, wild-eyed and hungry. He purred at her again, stroking her cheek.

"So I need you to tell me, now, Tanith," he murmured, nipping at her bottom lip, "if you accept me as your lover... or if we should schedule a refund-"

"-there is no way in this stupid Universe you're stopping now," she groaned, lifting her hips in offering.

Apparently that was all he'd been waiting for. He met her gaze as he slowly rubbed the tip of his erection against her opening with a controlled roll of his hips, growling faintly under his breath, teasing her, coaxing her hips to widen around him. Then he thrust, sharp and quick, completely into her.

She was moist and so very, very ready, but it still shocked the hell out of her to be taken like that. Throwing her head back and going stiff, the cry torn from her was a combination of shock, joy, pain, and exquisite sensation.

When she finally grew accustomed to him, she opened her eyes, panting, peering up at him. His eyes were closed, his expression tight. She flexed her muscles around him and dropped her thighs open about his hips, both wanting and curious.

That got him going, piercing eyes snapping open to return her stare, mandibles going slack with a strange expression. Carefully, he drew his hips back, testing the resistance of her body, the slick lubrication of her sex. When she moaned and lifted her hips again, he complied happily, rocking back into her, using his free hand to lift her thigh, drawing her leg over his shoulder.

Perfectly spread, she could feel every inch of him slide in and slide out, noting that he must have been curved or ridged or something, because while he wasn't as thick as some of the human men she'd been with, he could hit that coveted, perfect spot within her on every stroke, forward or back. His thrusts were measured and fluid, rhythmic and unchanging at first. The fire inside her belly was building, a careful, slow sensation, one that threatened to rob her of sanity as long as he could keep going.

He shifted above her and released her wrists, pushing the knee over his shoulder closer to her body, his other hand gripping her hip as he tilted it up and back. He was poised to pound into her, and with a swift increase in pace, he did just that. Practically drilling into her, bending her in half, she squealed as he began to piston in and out of her in hard, quick strokes.

The angle was perfect and she couldn't stop the indecent, high-pitched cries that burst from her every time he moved, and when she came, she clenched so hard she couldn't breathe, clawing at the headboard above her head.

With several hard, deep, fierce thrusts, the Turian atop her roared his release, pumping into her, his head thrown back, holding her hips tight to him as he emptied his seed into her spasming body.

For several minutes, the room was filled with their panting, gasping breaths, their bodies still tense and trembling, until Tanith melted, with a soft sigh. He all but collapsed over her, catching himself on one shaking arm, the other gripping the headboard to leave gouges in the wood.

Her lids were heavy when she finally managed to look up at him, still breathing hard. He was staring at her, his avian features lax and pleased, his mandibles flared as he panted too. Uncurling his hand from the wood, he traced a shaking digit along her brow, brushing her hair back with a delicate touch of talon to skin. The simple affection made her eyes drift closed, her sigh conveying all of her satisfaction and gratitude.

Tanith couldn't say how long they slept. She lay on her side, pleasantly warm against a smooth breathing form that curled up around her from behind. She had no desire to do anything but sleep and breathe.

~b~

An insistent, loud beeping noise woke her, a notification from her omni-tool, leaving her languid in her blissful exhaustion, opening her eyes to glare in bewilderment at her glowing outstretched arm. Her attempt to shut it off failed, as her other arm was tangled up in something, which did nothing but further confuse and irritate her.

She was saved, however, by a large, three-fingered hand, wrapping around her glowing wrist and bending her arm, bringing it close enough so that another Turian arm came around her from above and disabled the device.

Problem solved, both arms wound about her and drew her close and tight into the form that nestled against her. With a sigh of contentment, Tanith closed her eyes and rubbed her naked, soft rear into the harder, rigid surface of partner. The rumble of sleepy approval made her smile, and it wasn't long before she was asleep again.

~b~

Her hips ached, twitching against the sheets, and Tanith murmured in her sleep, brow furrowing, head tossing to the side.

No no, I want to sleep...

But there it was again, that sensation...

Rough palms against the insides of her thighs, pushing them wider, and then-

A cry burst from her lips, her back arching as her flailing hands gripped a pair of shoulders nestled under her knees. A tongue, warm and wet and rough and distinct, wriggled into her sex as a firm mouth plate nudged indulgently at her clitoris.

Blinking back sleep, she lifted her head to stare at the white-marked Turian nestled between her legs, as naked as she, legs over his shoulders as he feasted upon her over-senstive, swollen flesh. Black eyes flicked up to her, and she felt his mandibles flutter against the bottom curves of her ass as he rumbled happily into her skin.

That made her gasp and buck into his mouth, and he dug his sharp talons into her hips in response.

He was lapping along the seam of her body, slow, long strokes that made her twitch and spasm against the bed but didn't do anything to progress her towards orgasm; he was doing this for his enjoyment as much as hers, she understood, so she settled back to enjoy the pleasure, the sensations, following his example.

After a little while, though, her hands began to paw at his fringe, digging into his head and noting at those times, he would speed up and growl into her hips. Grinning to herself, Tanith reached a little further down and around, and stroked nails against the tender underside of his fringe, just above his neck-

Quite suddenly, her world turned over and she was face down on the floor, ass in the air, legs spread, and a snarling, aroused Turian loomed above her. He growled a fewe things that didn't translate, and that was all the warning she had before he entered her, as quick and sharp as the first time.

She cried out against the floor, hands scrabbling for purchase against the marble, lifting her hips up into him as he filled her, the position piercing her deep and rubbing her in different, delightful ways than the night before. He growled again, holding her hips in place as he began to piston into her hard, deep, and relentless. Yelling into smooth floor, digging her fingers into the unyielding surface, Tanith felt her climax mount inside her as surely as he had. Within moments, she was begging him not to stop, warning him that she was close, pleading with him to just let her, let her-

She came so hard she saw stars, gasping, shuddering, and promptly blacking out to the sound of his feral grunts, his last final thrusts toppling her into a warm, sensual oblivion.

~b~

It was warm, and bright.

And wet.

Tanith moaned softly, shifted. She heard the soft splash of water, and a warm chuckle.

"So she lives," her Turian murmured.

She was in a bath, the lights warm and ambient, the room without windows. In made a lie of the world she knew was beyond this place, a city of deviants and pollution. The marble here was warm cream, the tub set deep into the floor.

"I don't know about that," she grumbled, trying not to smile and failing. "I think you broke me..."

He chuckled into her hair. He was cradling her against him, his hand under her chin to hold it above water, his other arm around her waist. He nuzzled into her ear, growling softly, his touch skimming across her lower belly. Drowsy, the caress made her whimper and stiffen, every nerve in her body telling her she was over-stimulated.

"Nngh... we have three days for you to rut me into oblivion," she moaned plaintively. "If you just let me rest, I promise... I'll do anything you ask..."

To her surprise, the Turian laughed aloud, a delighted sound. He shifted behind her and withdrew his hand, helping her sit up. Water splashed against the edges of the tub as they moved, and he adjusted her to sit on his knees.

"Very well," he sighed. She turned her head to see him smiling in that strange, alien way. "I have no interest in completely breaking such a lovely toy before I'm finished playing with it."

Her lips twitched, the woman feeling sly and sensual. With a suggestive sound, she stretched her arms above her head and indulged in a long, slow stretch, undulating her spine in an old dancer's move.

His responding growl sounded so indignant, his hands barely refraining from digging talons into her hips.

"...I'll take it back," he grumbled, rubbing his brow between her shoulderblades.

Tanith giggled and squirmed, drawing away from him with some effort. The tub was large enough for both of them to lounge in easily, and she took advantage of the size to dunk her hair, submerging for a moment before standing on the opposite side.

She should have known better, though; when she brushed the wet hair from her eyes, he was there, pressing against her, arms winding about her wet body, soft moist flesh to harder Turian plates. Laughing, she gripped his upper arms as she blinked away the water, noting that his texture was more yielding than before, even smoother.

"I change my mind." He tightened his arms about her. "Your contract dictates that you are exclusively mine for three days," came his explaination, his mouth skimming the skin at her throat, in particular the flesh where her neck met her shoulder. "I don't want to waste any of it, if I have the choice."

While he purred into her skin, his actions tickled a memory to the surface, something she'd heard about from Kelly in one of her many long-winded lectures about non-humans and their customs...

Blinking, she ran her hands up the ridged surface of his back, skimming up and over his cowl, finding the vulnerable, softer flesh of his own neck that his species had adapted to protect.

Here... she remembered.

"Turians mark their mates," she murmured against his cheek. She felt him go still, his face hidden against her shoulder.

"Right here," she breathed, stroking the side of his neck with gentle fingers, the twin to the spot he nuzzled on her now. "To show a claim, to mark them as theirs for at least as long as it remains."

He pulled back a little to look down at her, for once his face completely un-readable. Careful talons rubbed at her neck as he considered her, that same deep, resonant purr radiating through him. With his eyes on her, she leaned forward, opening her mouth, and moved her fingers to press teeth to his neck, suggestive, hard, but not enough to break skin.

The reaction in him was profound; a shudder rippled through him, followed by her sudden back-bend against the edge of the tub. Instintively, she wrapped a leg around his hip, her spine arched almost painfully as he pressed into her.

She felt teeth press against her neck, felt his quick, hard breathing against her skin. She could also feel the turmoil inside of him, his refined exterior at war with instinct and, if she could be so bold to suggest, feral need.

"Are you giving me permission, soft-skin?" he ground into her skin.

Gods... am I? she wondered.

Back and forth he brushed his mouth, brushing her flesh with sharp teeth and darting, gentle tongue. When she said nothing and simple trembled, he murmured, "And what of your Turian?"

For a moment, she was genuinely confused, and she replied, "...what Turian-?" before she understood what he'd been referring to. Who he'd been referring to. In truth, she had completely forgotten.

Ohright ...Garrus- she thought, before his teeth sank in.

The pain wasn't deep but it was intense, her cry smothered in his shoulder as he gripped the back of her head, his other busy between them. With his teeth still shallow in her flesh, laved by his tongue, he shifted quickly and sank deeply into her.

The pleasure and red-searing pain combined, robbing her of thought as he moved against her, pumping slow and firm. Eventually, the pain faded altogether, the Turian drawing back his head to gaze down at her, his hands cradling her head against the rim of the tub.

She whimpered as he took her slow, almost gentle, even as she saw blood on his bottom lip; when her head lolled back, she felt his mouth brush the pulse at her throat, his tongue lathing st his bite mark, still working her gently, rumbling under his breath, his native words (at least, she assumed so, as her translator wasn't kicking in) caressing her skin. Their previous activities had been fierce and almost hard, passionate and intense. This time, it was no less intense, but this time, he measured his speed, savored his movements, and took in every little expression as he sank into her.

The tenderness of his gaze was making her blush, and it soon got difficult to look at him while he beheld her so. Still, Turian hands framed her face, combing talons into her hair and forcing her to watch him while he rocked into her slow, and indulgent, and completely unmerciful.

His mouth dropped to hers, skimming her soft, whimpering lips as he sipped her gasps, savored her tremors. He gripped her flank, digging sharp digits into her hip as he began to move a little fiercer, harder, his breathing labored as he fought the urge to rut her in to his own release. Part of her was aware of this self-control, moved by it, and it was this awareness that toppled her over the edge.

With a cry twisting from her, she arched beneath him and shuddered once, thighs spread and body rigid, her release spilling through her like hot water from a bucket. Even now, she knew he watched her, and he waited until she sagged boneless against the marble before he carried himself the rest of the way, jerking inside her as he thrust once, twice, and spilling within her shaking hips.

It was a long time before either of them could move, their breathing quick and labored. Eventually, though, he recovered first and withdrew, drawing her down into the water with him. With careful touches, he washed her gently from head to toe, rinsing her clean and, after pulling her from the bath, patting her dry with a soft towel. Despite her protests, he carried her back into the main room and into their bed, finishing his work by playfully toweling her hair.

When he went to retrieve a towel of his own, she admired his strange form as he moved away from her. He reminded her of a lean human, his limbs leaner and longer than her species, his legs bent backward and accented with those leg spurs. It still amazed her how graceful Turians were, their smooth gait, their unconscious ability to take only as much as space as they needed to.

He reclaimed his place in the bed, stalking over her and forcing her to lean back. He gathered her into his arms and pulled her over him, rumbling happy as he ran his hands down her damp, bare back, traveling back up to comb his talons through her wet hair. Unable to help herself, Tanith wriggled happily atop him, tucking her knees between his, bringing her hands up to squeeze his upper arms and shoulders affectionately, her cheek dropping to his warm chest.

It was generally known that Turian bodies ran hotter and faster than humans, with a quicker pulse and higher body temperature. Having never touched a Turian before, she still marveled at the heat of him, radiating out and making her sigh at the simple pleasure. A chuckle reverberated within him, his touch running carefully over her scalp and down her neck.

"Soo," he began careful. "Enjoying yourself so f-"

"I'm completely ruined for humans," she assured him, squeezing him as he laughed into her hair.

"Mmrrrm. We aren't all so nice, you know."

"Yes, but most of you are almost this appealing. I'm guaranteed to turn into quite the Turian groupie after this."

"Oh? And here I thought I was doing just one other Turian a favor, your blue-loving friend."

Tanith grew quiet, rubbing her cheek thoughtfully against his sternum as she considered his words. Eventually, she drew up and lifted her head, looking into his sable eyes, finding a question there that he was trying to hide behind playful banter and coy expressions. She shifted upward, brushing her lips across his mouth, drawing her fingers across his cheek, tracing the stark lines of white along his shadowy hide.

His eyes drifted half-way closed when her tongue darted across the seam of his mouth, moaning softly and parting his lips.

"What other Turian?" she whispered, feeling him growl possessively in response and grip her tight before rolling her beneath him.
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The Auction Where Everyone Wins