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Pride and Politics	By : HunterOpera Category: +M through R > Metroid Views: 31560 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Samus Aran or Metroid and am making no money from this.

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A year went by before he saw her in person once more.
He didn't know it at the time and neither did she.
She didn't know him because why would she? Olsar was a minor noble from an empire she'd spent little time in. She was a fighter, mostly, and most of her time was spent on the battlefield or the front lines, places that Olsar rarely saw.
He didn't know her because her identity was still private. So far as the galaxy was concerned, Samus Aran was a very private man who sent his cute mechanic to pick up his rewards and work on his ship and haggle for supplies. Olsar was not the type to bother with servants.
They were at a gala on Daibon, the sort of soiree thrown for elite soldiers and powerful politicians, and Olsar certainly counted as the latter. The past year had been a difficult one for his family; four more of his siblings had died due to Zebesian attacks. Evidence had been found that his surviving sister, Alista, had been the one to try and work with the Zebesians a year prior. The same evidence hinted at her involvement in the death of her siblings in addition to the kidnapping plot that had almost seen him lost, and that saw her tried and arrested.
Being the sole inheritor of a Barony would have been enough to get him an invite to a place like this, but the tragedy of the past year combined with his reputation for good works in the face of adversity made him a face sought out by the powerful. He had become a mighty figure in the world of galactic intrigue, and both he and Bekhesh looked the part.
Miklo Braca was with them constantly now. He'd dressed them in formal blues and purples, the fancy dress bringing attention to Olsar's eyes and Bekhesh's scars. Braca stayed to Olsar's left, handing the finer details of contract once Olsar settled negotiations. More called him Olsar than That Rat Bastard these days, and when the latter was mentioned it was done so in that joking way the very rich have with one another.
Hours were spent dancing and snacking and working out the finer details with several systems, deals struck that would ensure the wealth of his Barony for decades. Tragedy had struck the Kanvian capital and the royal family had all died in some sort of bizarre intrigue involving outworlders, and the resulting deaths had placed Olsar closer to a throne he didn't want.
Oh, certainly he had dreamed of such things as a child, but he knew the attentions kings suffered now that he was a man. The back dealings he had worked into his many acts of charity saw him wealthier than the king, anyway, and he had no desire for such scrutiny.
Instead, once his work was done, he found himself pacing the shadows, whistling quietly to himself, stopping only when he noticed someone else doing the same.
“You look bored,” she said, smiling, her eyes flashing something.
She was an inch or two taller than him, her eyes sometimes green and sometimes blue, her hair a shining gold. Her muscle tone told him that she was a warrior, the blue gown she wore clinging to her every curve. He noted with interest the pink markings on her left breast, signs he did not recognize. He assumed that they denoted which unit she was with.
“I'm about done for the evening,” he sighed.
“Tired?” she asked, a challenge.
“Hardly,” he answered. He offered a hand, gave his name. She took it and grinned.
“Samus Aran.”
He assumed she was joking.
She pressed him against the elevator wall as they went back to his suite. So much stronger than she looked, friends, her palm on his chest and her lips at his ear, his neck, small lingering kisses that undid his shirt as she sank to her knees and licked the flesh above his pant line. He moaned, fingers in her hair, but she lifted him from his feet and mumbled at him.
“Which room is yours?”
She somehow made sense of his answer, the two of them fumbling with the door and then groping at one another.
Fingers pulled the jacket from his shoulders, her trim nails brushing along the lines of his shirt and then pulling it off. Her mouth never left his flesh, tongue lolling on a nipple with casual glee as his breath left him in ragged waves. Her fingers played with his belt as he pressed his hands against her back, pulling her closer, she pushing him against a wall that ended up being a door.
He stumbled.
She would not let him fall.
He wasn't sure when he lost his shoes, but his pants were pooled around his ankles and then gone, her lips on his cock and her hands pressed against the small of his back. He staggered as she suckled on his manhood, tongue pressed at the spot where sac met shaft, tracing a line until she came up for air and then moved deeper, deeper, his cock slithering all the way down her throat.
Olsar thought he might explode when she pushed him back on the bed. He landed on the sheets as she crawled over him, straddling him, gentle wet strength enveloping him completely. He moaned, back arching, her palms on his chest, his fingers bent around her hips as he pulled her deeper onto him.
Her hips rolled over him and he shook, eyes bulging, tongue coming out and meeting hers as her hips continued to roll over him, shaking him to his very core. Every thought he'd ever had spilled out into nothing as she rode him, milked him. He exploded into her, thinking himself spent.
Gasping, he waited for her to stop.
She looked into his eyes, asking him silently if he wanted to keep going, smiling at his answer.
He could not walk the next day, had trouble for three days after. Overall, he thought he had cummed seven or eight times inside the soldier, she staying into the morning and singing to herself as she showered, made him a cup of coffee, then dressed and left.
Bekhesh and Braca checked in on him but it would be a solid galactic standard week before he judged himself ready for meeting anyone. Bekhesh spat and helped him stand, helped him walk. The best sex he'd ever had took that much out of him and he hadn't even gotten her real name.
Or so he thought at the time.
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Pride and Politics