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The Warm Abyss	By : Mayamahal Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 8296 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I only the smut, I do not own Mass Effect, and I do not make any money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-The Warm Abyss
- 1
Shepard ran a hand over her face as she gazed out through the lounge's viewport, watching the last of her crew disappear into the Citadel crowds. For all she knew, this was the last bit of peace they'd get, and while a day amidst five wasn't a lot to most, to the soldiers that could face death at any minute you could find a lot of relief in a single day.

She gazed down at the datapad in her hand, flicking through messages, dossiers, and tasks to do, contemplating her own course of action for a day of reprieve. Fun, or work? Her thoughts flicked briefly to Garrus, wondering where he was and what he was doing, and she promptly stepped on the surge of despair that train of thought often led to.

And, knowing that to lead by example worked far more than empty words, she thumbed the device inactive and made her way to the elevator.

"EDI," she asked, "Have all crew vacated the Normandy?" Her fingers worked at the stiff collar of her uniform, relieving pressure as she shucked the outer layer.

"Yes, Commander. "

"Does that include Joker?"

"Joker is with my mobile platform headed towards the Presidium Commons. I believe his intentions are to 'take in the sights' while I am 'bent over the rail'."

Shepard laughed as the elevator doors slid closed. "Just make sure he works for it, EDI. We can't let the boys think all of us are that easy."

"Of course, Shepard."

Shepard sought solace from her detachable shower-head. That, coupled with the pounding massage that same mounted shower could give her, was the only way she found any release for the constant tension her mission brought on.

She was braced into the corner, one leg lifted with a hand aiming the hot jet of steam between her thighs, the other hand gripping a fixture above her head to keep upright. The sensations were taking their toll, turning her bones to jelly as she panted against the tile. She was hitting the point she always did, the moment when her world blossomed into mental fire as keen as any biotic thrill, when she tested her resolve to see just how far she'd go.

She was starting to hold her breath, the lack of oxygen the only thing blunting the pleasure just enough to keep going, to press beyond one level of sensation, and another, and another...

With a stifled wail, she dropped the shower head and arched against the tile, a smile of pride on her lips; she'd gone further than any time before, and while, as ever, she didn't fall into some warm, black abyss of sated pleasure, the burning of her nerves was still such a thrill. Her legs were shaking as she palmed the controls for the mounted spout, waiting for the jets of massaging water to blast at her.

She clutched the wall, turning about to let the water pound at her muscles, waiting for the tremors to fade and subside as the massage did what the pleasure alone couldn't, easing aches and rendering her boneless. With a sigh, she pressed her cheek to the tile, feeling the last of the trembling tension melt form her body.

Practice and diligence had taught her that while she might not have the ability to orgasm, she could still find a measure of the relaxation it could bring (so she was told). The efficient woman and career soldier in her had to admit that blowing off steam was healthy and necessary in her line of work, and she was a little proud of the solution she'd come up with. While part of her still wanted what seemed so easy for everyone else, it was hard to be bitter when she was so damned relaxed.

Later, wrapped in her fluffiest towel and curled up on her couch, reading a book and sipping a glass of wine, it was almost possible for Shepard to feel at ease. The novel she'd selected was an old favorite from the previous century, full of courtesans, intrigue, violence, and a healthy dose of happy endings. She'd probably read it fifty times, half that in the six months she was incarcerated in Vancouver.

She was just getting to the good part, when EDI's lyrical voice chimed through her quarters, managing to sound almost apologetic.

"Commander, you request I informed you should any of the crew return to the ship before the end of your mandated reprieve."

Shepard sighed, laying her datapad aside and draining the dregs from her glass. She wondered if she could still command the respect of the universe if she threw someone from the Normandy while wearing only her favorite robe. "Yes, EDI? Who is it?"

"Garrus Vakarian is in the cargo bay."

She groaned. Really?

Loose pajama bottoms and a comfortable tank-top were the only things she had lying around fast enough to throw on, and she had no intention of giving Garrus enough time to copy his work to his omni-tool so that he could effectively cheat on his day off. Biotic energy flared up her arms just as the elevator doors opened to the shuttle bay, and she stalked off quietly to catch her armory specialist in the act.

That particular turn of phrase took on a whole new meaning when she found him.

Opening her mouth to call out his name, she went frozen when she heard a low, resonant, distinctively Turian growl, followed by the unmistakable scrape of armored claws on metal.

The doors of the Kodiak were open, the only thing out of place in Lt. Cortez's territory. Instincts told Shepard that there was no danger here, but curiosity had her run on silent feet as she made her way to the shuttle dock.

There was another growl and a reverberating, dual-toned keen, and the sound of grunting.

Peering around the edge of the door while still a good yard from the actual aircraft, Shepard was greeted with the sight of Garrus Vakarian in black and blue civvies, pounding away into a sprawled, leg-spread, elegant looking Turian woman.

The female was wider in the hip and slimmer in the chest, currently bent over the control console, pants around her knees, head thrown back as Garrus fucked her for all she was worth. Keening cries echoed through the cargo bay as she neared her obvious release, the male pounding into her grunting as teeth strayed across her clothed shoulder. The act between the two was more mechanical than intimate, a desperate attempt at distraction and release. The difference in species didn't matter; Shepard would recognize their intentions a mile away.

It didn't surprise her that heat had pooled in her belly, or that her cheeks felt warm and flushed; who wouldn't be aroused by the sight of Garrus-fucking-Vakarian's hips snapping forward like that, or the feral growling in that gorgeous, dual-toned croon of his?

What did surprise her, however, was Garrus' unwavering gaze latched to Shepard's; he was looking right at her.

Silver blue eyes blazing with purpose were boring holes into her as he made a great show of gripping the female's hips and yanking her to him. Shepard felt her eyes widen, her breath quickening in time to his thrusts into the pliant creature beneath him.

Seemingly assured that he had her attention, his mandibles flicked as he pushed harder, and harder, clutching at the female beneath him as the poor thing came squealing, indignant and shuddering. Shepard notice that he didn't finish, going rigid and gripping the edge of the console as he narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he reined himself in. While the other Turian flopped against the console, Garrus withdrew gently from her, breathing hard, his eyes still on Shepard's, tucking himself back into his trousers as he backed away from his companion.

"Ralanoa," he murmured softly. "I'm afraid you need to go, my friend."

The female lifted her head in post-orgasmic confusion, blinking as she first peered at him behind her, and then flicked her gaze to Shepard's unmoving form. The Turian woman had the grace to both comprehend and accept without question, straightening carefully and righting her clothing. Garrus spared her a rueful smile and gave her a respectful nod as she did the same, before she made her way off the ship.

It left Garrus and Shepard to stare at each other, a check mate of the most unusual kind.

"You set me up," she finally stated, the comprehension alarming.

He flicked his mandibles in amusement, their motion easy and relaxed as he stepped from the shuttle and took the few steps to stand before her.

"Commander?" he queried, raising a brow plate.

She squared her shoulders and did her best to glare at him.

"You did. You knew that I ordered EDI to notify me if anyone came back on board. You did this on purpose. Did you WANT me to see you 'blowing off steam'? Was it some kind of kink thing? Or some... weird ... Turian prank?"

She felt herself getting angry, part of her dimly wondering why; it's not like she could claim him.

He crossed his arms over his broad chest, jerking a shoulder in a fair imitation of a shrug. "And why would I do that, Shepard?"

Fuck him, the man was almost purring.

Struggling to think through the tangle of emotions, she honestly did her best to consider that question. Why would Garrus Vakarian set up such an awkward (well, for a human, anyway) encounter, even going through the trouble of getting caught with his pants down? Literally? Surely there were easier ways to ruffle her feathers or get her in a tiff. Why do that all at the expense of himself? It had all the potential of a very humiliating situation ... for Garrus.

She went through her mental list of possibilities, and finally came to the most simplistic answer.

He wanted her to see him.

Why?

Because it accomplished a goal.

What goal?

"...what goal?" she murmured, echoing her thoughts.

He took a step closer, unfolding his arms to feather his breath across her bare throat. She shivered, hands moving to grip his elbows to steady herself. His pleased rumble resonated through the air, his torso brushing hers as his arms wound around her.

"It isn't obvious?" he mumbled into her ear.

Oh goddamn him and his beautiful voi-

His tongue robbed her of all thought, tracing the outer edge of her ear, growling her name into it.

It occured to her later that he never needed to ask her permission to touch her, that his Turian sense of smell had caught her arousal and acceptance long before her'd seen her around the edge of the Kodiak's open door. She had to admire his skill as a hunter, setting his bait and trap so effortlessly.

The two of them had danced around their attraction to each other for years, since after Dr. Saleon and their search for Saren. Respect had melted into admiration and friendship, an affection that permeated their fight against the Collectors and made Shepard's reintroduction to living all that much easier. They'd never strayed beyond the occasional flirt, more from her unspoken request than his. Strong and confident and certain of herself to most any degree, she didn't know what the next step was in courting a Turian, and life had become too busy for her to seriously consider him actually interested. It was obvious now, with his hands at her waist, skimming up her back, scorching through her thin clothing as her own hands traveled up the back of his neck, digging gently into the sensitive flesh just under his fringe. He said her name again, this one on the breath of a moan, and told her that he wanted to bed her.

It was hard not to giggle, a sound rewarded by his chuckle as he drew back enough to fix her with one crystalline gray-blue eye.

"You went through all this trouble," she murmured. "You could have just asked."

This time his laugh came out in a bark. "Shepard..." He shook his head, tightening his arms around her. "That's what I've been doing for YEARS."

That explained his no-holds-barred, all out attempt at catching her attention by letting her see him fuck someone else. The desperation she'd seen in his carnal movements hadn't been a drive towards release; it had been the need to demonstrate his desire for HER.

"How very Turian," she laughed as the understanding sank in, letting him sweep her up and carry her to the lift.

Sex for Shepard was just as enjoyable to her as anyone else, even if she never found that mystical sense of completion that so many others had experienced. There was still joy in sharing a body, in feeling pleasure thread lazily through her nerves even as heady desire burned in the gaze of the person she was with. Research told her that orgasm was possible for any human woman, with the right partner, technique, toy, whatever, but she just never had the time to focus that much of her energy in to it.

And if she were honest with herself, she'd admit that it had never really mattered before.

But now she was here, with Garrus, straddling his lap on her couch, feeling higher than she'd ever had, wishing she could give him all of herself. Barring that, she was perfectly willing to give as much as she could.

He was running his hands up and down her back, under her tanktop and across her skin, making her shiver with every pass. Her hands were framing his face as she pressed her brow to his, basking in the rumbling purr that seemed to eminate from his throat. Her eyes were closed and she was struggling not to think, trying to stem the anxiety that had suddenly taken bloom when she considered what she was about to do.

Garrus was picking up on it; she could tell by the gaze he was fixing her with when she opened her eyes. He brushed a stand of hair from her cheek, tilted his head and drew his nose across hers.

"What's happening in that head of yours, Shepard?" he murmured, wonder and concern in his voice.

Shepard considered all the things she could say, what she could leave out and gloss over, what she could confess to and what she might need to keep to herself. It occured to her again and again that this was Garrus, however, and if there was one person on the whole ship- in the whole WORLD- she could be herself with, it was him.

Her fingers swept back and forth across his mandibles as she considered all this, her brow furrowing, her teeth caught between her lip.

She opted for a simple response that was founded in the truth.

"I don't know where to start," she breathed with a laugh.

His hands tightened around her waist as he chuckled in response, lifting his head in her grip to brush the tip of his tongue across her lips. When she parted them in surprise, he tasted her, drew her close as he swept his tongue across hers, teasing the roof of her mouth as his fingers slid into her hair, let loose from its customary bun to drift past her shoulderblades.

"I've never seen it down before," he murmured into her lips, breaking the kiss to wind a tress around a finger.

It was true, she realized; she seldom let it down at all, tucked up in a bun with pins and ties. It had grown long in the past six months, her thick curls tickling the base of her spine. Feminine pride kept her from cutting it, but now, with the look in Garrus' eye, something else would keep her from doing it forever.

"It's longer than most humans keep it, isn't it?" he continued, threading both hands through the thick mass. Her eyes were drifting closed again; her scalp was sensitive, and this felt like heaven to her.

She mumbled her assent and sighed as his talons stroked across her head, only to comb down again through her long, dark hair. She bit back a moan.

"I didn't think humans had nerve-endings in their hair."

He sounded so indignant, like he'd been lied to. Shepard laughed.

"We don't," she assured him, opening her eyes to smile into his. "The scalp is somewhat sensitive, and some humans enjoy having our hair pulled. Gently." She punctuated this remark with a gentle tug on his fringe; Tali told her once about several Turian erogenous zones on a dare to prove a point, and Shepard had a hard time forgetting.

The growl Garrus put off reverberated through her nerves and settled between her thighs. She squirmed in his lap, and it was then that she realized she had his complete and upright attention. She grinned at him. He tried to look innocent for a moment but completely failed seconds later when she rolled her hips against his thighs again.

Garrus was definitely the more experienced of the two, and it surprised her that he knew more about her body than she did his. He tried to explain to her that Asari weren't that much different than humans in that regard as he teased a stroke along the underside of her breast, having tugged up her top to expose one fleshy mound.

"-and, as you know, they've been around for centuries," he purred, brushing her hard nipple along the edges of his teeth.

Shepard couldn't stop looking down at him, inhaling sharply when he pulled the little nub into his mouth to pull and brush on it with his tongue.

"So... you've been with... Asari ... then-? -ohgodGarrus that feels-"

He was taking his slow time. With everything. It was driving her a little crazy. When she made this known to him, he ignored her, pulling back to expose her other breast and nuzzle the nipple on that one as well.

This time he carefully bit her; it took everything she had not to dig her nails into the sensitive skin at the base of his fringe. She took her frustrations out on his shoulders instead, head tilting backward as she arched beneath his mouth. When she whimpered his name, it seemed to break some of his control; with a soft snarl he was up on his feet and tossing her to her bed. She'd just landed when his hands found the top of her pants, catching her panties on the way down as he pulled them off. His eyes went dark, dilated, his attention zeroed in on the dark patch between her thighs.

Shepard would never have classified herself as either modest or shy, but in that moment, nothing could keep her hands from straying down to cover the mound of her sex, or halt the fire that burned through her cheeks.

"No," he whispered, hands wrapping around her wrists, drawing them away. "No, don't do that; you smell... delicious."

That last word made her shudder with anticipation, or maybe it was simply the way he said it: low, menacing, aroused, hungry... He carefully pried her legs open, fingers slipping along the folds of her sex in a gentle, placating way. Her breath fast and shallow, she allowed him access and spread her thighs. She half expected him to dive in right away, but instead he spread her petals and brushed his thumb across her engorged, moist skin, his eyes intent on her sex as he took in her most intimate details. If she wasn't flushed before, she was now.

"God, Garrus, your voice is making me blush like a shy little-"

With a growl he was leaning between her thighs, spreading them further open and running a tongue up the seam of her sex in a slow, agonizing lick.

Her hips thrust up into his grip as she cried out, clutching at the sheets above her head drew circles around the engorged pearl of her clitoris. Panting, she grit out his name and spread her thighs wider around his head, gratified when he lifted her to his mouth and growled into her sex.

Shepard thought she was going to lose her mind.

For a while, she was lost to the sensation of his mouth and his reverberating voice, moaning and sighing and gasping as he feasted on the joy of her body. When he added a finger, she lifted her head to find him watching her as she writhed, gasping, his eyes dark and his face intent.

It was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

He was bringing her to a sensual level she'd barely felt before, her head falling back as she clawed at the bed, soft, desperate little whimpers escaping her as he pushed her further, and further, and she was just about to scream for him to stop... when he withdrew his hand and rose above her.

Garrus tilted his head to look at her face, his breathing deep, his expression serious, eyes still dark with desire. As she watched, his hands began to stray over his form, undoing buckles and latches, easing his clothes from his body until he was completely bare to her eyes. She knew enough of Turian physiology to understand that his freed erection was a definite sign of interest, as was the increasing shade of blue as blood rushed to his organ.

The visor was the last to go, carefully placed on her nightstand as he crawled over her. He rubbed his unscarred cheek to hers, rumbling softly as a hand ran down her waist, tracing the outline of her hip before grazing across her thigh.

Her legs parted more of their own accord, Shepard's head flopping back against the pillow while she struggled to breathe around the sensual onslaught that was Garrus Vakarian. Who knew he'd be so tender, or so ... so...

Loving, she thought.

She grit her teeth when he settled between her thighs, only to rub the head of his erection in slow, feather-light circles.

Or such a goddamn tease-

"Shepard," he purred, drawing her face to meet his gaze. He brushed her lips with his mouth-plates; she felt the lightest brush of his tongue . She trembled, hands brushing up his neck to stroke along the underside of his fringe. His eyes fluttered a moment and he sighed softly, kissing her again before, at last, he stopped teasing her and slid completely in.

It was a bit of a shock; the Turian was thick and a curved upward, ridged in fascinating places that made her sex clench around him. He voiced a pleased groan and braced himself above her on powerful arms, gazing down at her as she struggled to breathe. When the muscles in her spine eased, he quirked a brow-plate at her in askance.

She gave a small smile, hands traveling up his chest, and hooked her thighs over his hips to squeeze around his waist. He groaned and all but went cross-eyed, shaking between her legs.

"Shepard-" he grit out, before she lifted her head to kiss the tip of one mandible.

"Move, Garrus," she whispered.

He needed no further encouragement.

It was a slow, rocking movement at first, the upward curve of his erection sending spasm after delightful, shocking spasm through her hips, pushing whimpers from her gasping mouth as her hands sought purchase on his wide shoulders. He was shaking with the effort to control himself, she could see, and while part of her wanted to let him know that holding back was unnecessary, the other part of her was too enthralled with sensation to tell him anything.

Soon, though, his thrusts became more insistent, hips pumping in sharp jerks between her thighs that made her cry out; she was hitting that point of too much sensation, over-stimulation, and god she hoped he'd come soon.

As if privy to her thoughs to some degree, Garrus began to move faster and Shepard was reduced to begging and clawing at his upper arms; it was becoming too much.

He looked down at her and all but bared his teeth, groaning, "...a-are you clo...close...?"

For one horrified moment, she wondered if she was going to be able to fake it, if she was going to be able to concentrate enough to fake it without giving it all away...

Her silence apparently ratted her out, as did the expression on her face. With a strength of will Krogans don't even posess, Garrus slowed his thrusts into stopping completely, brow furrowed, hand straying to cup her face. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, bringing Shepard's attention to the tears that had pooled there.

Son of a -

He said her name. Not her last name, or 'commander', but her given name, the name no one called her these days. He said it softly, with so much concern and affection in his voice that she felt ashamed, so ashamed of what she couldn't do or who she couldn't be. For him.

In an instant, the sob that escaped her brought everything to a stand still; Garrus was out of her and was wrapped around her, crooning low and deep, arms pulling her face to tuck into his throat, his hands coming gently through her hair. His breathing was even again, the only sign of his carnal desire the rigid, near angry erection pressed between them.

"Did I hurt you?" he breathed, the pain in his voice almost enough to kill her. She shook her head vigorously, anxious to dispell him of that particular worry.

"God, no," she said with a watery laugh, hiding her tears against his shoulder. "No, it feels wonderful..."

"But?" he coaxed her, some tension easing from his shoulders at her reassurance.

She sighed; here it came.

"I can't ... I don't ..." Fuck. Why was this so hard to tell him? She'd explained it fearlessly, even playfully, a thousand times before. She took a deep breath. This wasn't a big deal. It wasn't.

"It felt amazing... better than any time I've ever... not that I've been with a lot of ... I mean-"

"Shepard."

She closed her eyes even as she lifted her head.

"Look at me," he murmured.

She did. It was like prying Mordin's hands from a conch shell.

His eyes were deep, soulful as they always were, and sharp as any blade. The slit right through her, saw through everything, brushed aside her insecurities as surely as if they were cobwebs.

She still chewed on her bottom lip as she considered her next words carefully.

"I've never been able to ... finish. Release. Er ... you know, when your friend got all noisy before turning into Turian jell-o?" Her lips quirked and she waggled her eyebrows playfully at him, before sighing, leaning into his chest.

His mandibles flared briefly, his eyes sparkling with humor. "Is the fearless Commander Shepard unable to say the word ... 'orgasm'?"

She smacked him harmlessly on the shoulder, grumbling at him even as her cheek grew warm again. "I can say it, you smug, Turian butt-face."

He squeezed her close as he laughed, leaning his lips down to preen gently along the edge of her ear. His hands began to stroke across her shoulders and down her back, the low rumble in his chest resuming. "It's not anything to be embarrassed about, Shepard," he murmured into her hair.

She squirmed a little. "And I haven't in years. I just..."

He remained quiet, listening to her, waiting.

She ran her hand down his arm, tracing the lines of his muscles and plates, the various scars he'd earned with and without her. It was getting hard to breathe.

"...this isn't just some fling. Is it?"

He went very still.

"That wasn't obvious before?" he murmured, voice thrumming through her skull.

She shrugged. "I'm not as familiar with your customs. I mean, you did initiate ... all this ... by letting me catch you with another woman. That isn't typical of human courtship," she chuckled. "Not that it bothers me... if you'd been human, it'd have meant something different, but I know Turians are a little more casual with physical intimacy than humans tend to be."

"It isn't just Turian customs versus human, Shepard." His hand ran through her hair again. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew you wouldn't understand, finally, what it was I wanted all this time."

"Then it isn't just sex, then?"

She could feel his mandibles flicker against her brow. "No. It never was."

Letting this sink in a moment, the words finally brought down the invisible barrier in her chest, letting her come clean. "I've never been able to..." She cleared her throat, shooting him a look. "... orgasm, and I've always suspected it was because I couldn't really let go. With anyone. And I really, really, really want to let go with you, Garrus. I want to give it all to you. All of me." She lifted her head, kissing his lips softly as the rumble in his chest grew louder. "Everything."

He tightened his embrace and traced gentle teeth across her jaw before biting down at her neck. She went tense and moaned, closing her eyes as he stretched out and took her with him, her back against the sheets as he pressed against her side.

"Then we try, Shepard," he purred into her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. "We try until we can't anymore."

Her laugh was breathless, her chest arching as he drew his fingers lazily down her sternum. "For how long?"

"W-e-e-ll... you did declare a 24 hour shore-leave."

"Oh goodness-"

Her caught her words in a tongue-sweeping, emphatic kiss as his fingers found their goal, slipping between her spreading thighs to press two thick fingers into her. Still quite wet and very interested, it took nothing to get her squirming against the sheets. His strokes were firm and deep, fingers curled up to rub against the bundle of nerves just inside and tucked up, encouraging her hips to jerk into his palm.

His mouth strayed downward to scrape teeth against a nipple, repeating the action again and again as he picked up the pace carefully between her thighs; it was obvious he was in no hurry, despite Shepard's increasing pleas and frantic grip on his shoulders. She was swiftly hitting her breaking point, far faster than she ever had before.

Level by level, he was letting her climb a ladder of sensation, demonstrating amazing stamina (holygodfore-armmuscles-) and patience as he took her up and up. Her hips were spanking the bed, lifting up and in as much as they'd jerk down and away. Her cries were getting indecent, her pleas more desperate, and soon enough, she was hitting that point of too-much but not-enough.

"G-garrus please-!" she squealed, trying to yank away. He used his body to pin her down, half on her torso, shoulder pinning down hers where it was tucked against him, free hand wrapping around her to keep her close. "Ohgodstopstopstop-" Her words dissolved into yells, wails, writhing in his iron grip as his fingers eased in pressure but increased in speed.

The over-whelming, almost tickling sensation was pushing her beyond anything comfortable, even as something slow and unknown began to bloom beneath it all. Indescribable ecstacy coupled with over-stimulation had her dissolving into incoherency, tangling with a panic as it suddenly felt like she was going to urinate right there in her Turian's arms.

"Stop worrying," Garrus breathed into her ear. "There is no shame here, Shepard. There never will be. Ever. Please, love, just let go... I'm here, I've got this..."

It was the hardest thing she ever did, giving into that trust, but she did it.

When it finally happened, when the nova exploded through her hips and around his thrusting fingers, she felt a gush of liquid for each convulsing spasm, spurts of moisture that flecked her thighs as her spine arched like a bridge and nails clawed into Garrus' back, her head thrown back, voice going hoarse from the screams bursting from her lips. She fell head long into that dark abyss, letting go even as his arms pulled her tight and close, purring into her ear as she shuddered, twitched, and writhed.

Coming back to the world was slow and pleasant, washing back to the shores of reality on a wave of euphoria and bliss. She'd never been so at ease, so relaxed or so free; she could really get used to this.

Strong, three-fingered hands were easing her legs around, Garrus settling between her thighs as her eyes finally opened to gaze up at him. She pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his quick breathing, the tremor of control in his body. He breathed her name.

"That was ... amazing..." he moaned, dropping his head to scrape his teeth up along her exposed throat, tilting her jaw back to nip sharply just under her ear. She whimpered. "I need you, Shepard. Please..."

In reply, she spread her thighs around his hips and eased back, lifting her pelvis in offering.

With a growl, he thrust forward and in, making her jerk beneath him, breasts bouncing at his quick invasion. She cried out, still sensitive, whimpering shrilly when he pressed one thigh around his waist and drew the other up and into her, pushing her knee to her shoulder as he began to pump deep and hard into her.

"My turn," he groaned, sharp eyes looking down at her, watching her as his hips snapped back and forward, alternately watching her expressions and his cock slide in and out of her.

It surprised it her how good it still felt, post-orgasmic and sensually burned out. She had assumed she'd be broken for a while, that it would take longer to spiral that high again, but she was wrong. No, it was easier now, easier to follow his pace and clench around him lift her hips and draw him deeper. Taking her pleading moans as encouragement, Garrus began to move faster, leaning foward, cock pumping in and out, in and out, harder and harder while Shepard wailed helplessly beneath him. Already, she could feel it, almost see it, that precipice she'd only just conquored-

She passed above and through it, unable to breathe, clawing furrows down his back as she yelled her release, just as Garrus roared her name and clamped his teeth into her shoulder.

Hours and hours later, Garrus collapsed in a heap beside her, sheets a tangled wreck about them. Blood speckled the bed, fabric wrenched and torn, wet spots here and there. He lay there panting, staring through the skylight at the wards beyond and far above, trying to find his brain.

And wondering if he'd created a monster.

Shepard was sprawled next to him, still whimpering faintly in the aftermath, shocks of pleasure still zipping through her nerves, making her twitch now and again.

Neither of them had slept beyond the ocassional doze, Shepard taking it as a personal challenge to match and meet her Turian need for need, pace for pace. He had suggested that they go easy, as Turian stamina was notoriously greater than that of a human's. She'd said she was curious to see how far she could go, and pointed out that she was far from a typical human.

Now, he was exhausted, pleasantly numb, and half terrified his beautiful human mate was going to insist on going again.

He couldn't help his groan of anxiety when her soft, many-fingered hands brushed across his panting chest.

Her soft, tired chuckle set some of his fears to rest, right before her words did:

"At ease, soldier. I think you finally broke me."

He turned his head to check out the wound he'd left from their first round, his talons straying across the punctures, noting they'd already begun to scar. He knew what they meant even if she didn't, and for the first time, he was worried maybe he'd gone too far.

Her generous lips quirked at his expression. "Admiring your handiwork?" she teased.

He flicked his mandibles in anxious thought, wondering if he should wait to tell-

"Kind of makes it official though, doesn't it?"

He stared at her. "I thought you didn't know that much about Turian courtship-"

"I don't, but this is one of the biggest, right?"

"Er..."

"Basically, the equivelant of a wedding ring for humans, hmm? Or are you saying you don't know about that?"

Of course he did. It was impossible not to. Still, he didn't know quite what to say.

"Because if it is, I'd more than happily say yes."

His mandibles flared wide in surprise.

And then Garrus Vakarian was claimed by a completely different anxiety altogether.

His mouth betrayed his thoughts, weakly lamenting, "...I am never going to walk straight ever again-"

Shepard's delighted laughter rang through the cabin, her body curving close as she pressed a soft kiss to his scarred cheek.

Oh yes. He was absolutely doomed.
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The Warm Abyss