“Nope,” Kaidan said with a husky laugh, catching her around the waist and slinging her back into the messy pile of blankets. It was an easy, practiced move, the (always impressive) knots of muscle along his arms and back rippling beneath sun-warmed skin. Gorgeous; absolutely fucking gorgeous. Shepard might have been annoyed if he wasn’t so darn pretty.
“Kaidan,” she protested, letting him lay her out amongst the pillows again. The sheets had gotten just cool enough to make her bare skin pebble, nipples tightening in reflexive response. Or was she responding to the way his eyes tripped down her lanky frame, one corner of his mouth tucked into an appreciative smile? God, there was really no telling with this man. “Kaidan,” she tried again.
That smile just grew. “Ma’am,” he said, and that, that was unfair. He knew exactly what that did to her, heat curling tight and smug in her belly, flush blooming across too-pale skin.
Shepard rose up onto an elbow, fighting back the quiet fluster of arousal with a flat stare. “Don’t ma’am me,” she said, giving one of his knees a little kick. He didn’t move—barely flinched—one arm coming down to bracket her in as he leaned close. He knew she loved the way he could cover her until he became her whole world: salt-and-pepper hair scratching along her belly, her tits; a hot breath fanning across her neck seconds before the first kiss.
Soft. She had to close her eyes against the urge to gasp, head tilting back at the brush of those perfect lips. It was maddening, the contradictions: the scratch of stubble and the silky brush of his tongue. Wet heat gliding along her collarbone and then down down between her breasts.
She kicked at him again, but it was more of a twitch of her hips and damn him, but he knew it. His gusting laugh cooled the molten heat of his tongue circling her nipple before he caught the peak of her breast between his teeth, tugging just shy of too sharp. (Just the way she liked it, body rebuilt so many times she needed the extra stimulation.)
Slick heat pooled between her thighs, a pulse beating there in time with her heart; in time with the steady hotwetgood tug of his mouth. One big hand moved from where he was braced on the mattress to catch her knee, pulling it up and out until she had to let it hook around one of those massive biceps. The move opened her up obscenely wide, made her all too aware of how fucking vulnerable she felt—the sharp pleasure of that was its own bright point as she arched and grabbed a handful of silver-and-black hair. “Fuuuuck.”
Kaidan bit again, chuckling; the bastard knew he’d won. Even Shepard’s token protests were all but dead as he pushed his free hand down between their bodies, gun-calloused fingers teasing along the slit of her cunt. He toyed with the swollen flesh, dipping fingertips just barely inside her even as he switched to her other breast, leaving a trail of silver in his wake.
She bit her lip hard, twisting up, then bucking, then nearly kneeing him in the smug-as-sin face as her leg came up higher, hips twitching toward his fingers. “Alenko!” Shepard finally snapped. She twisted his hair around her fingers and jerked him closer, two seconds from flipping their positions.
He knew she could do it, too. He knew she only gave so many warnings before—
“Ah!” The cry was wrest from her, too-loud in the small space as he finally finally finally hooked his fingers inside her body. They pressed deep, filling her two, three at a time and already stretching, giving her the subtle burn she craved. Shepard jerked her head to the side, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as she ground down against his hand. One thumb was tucked in at just the right angle, bumping up against her clit as he scored her breast with his teeth and thrust ohfuck deep inside of her.
God, yes, yes, that was—she was— “Fuck, Kaidan,” Shepard gasped. She looped her knee more firmly over one broad shoulder and dug her heel into the plane of his back, riding out each steady rocking thrust. She felt like a mass effect field beginning to spark and draw power, and she wouldn’t put it past Kaidan not to be charging his biotics just a little—just enough to really get her singing. She was dripping down his hand and about ready to come flying apart already; how could this man do that to her every time? “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Suddenly he pulled back, letting the peak of her breast go with a little (wonderfully wet, terribly obscene) pop as he grinned up the length of her body. Those dimples flashed against dark stubble. “What a mouth you have on you, Shepard,” he said, all whiskey-smooth and addictive.
Shepard let out a harsh pant of breath, blowing back a strand of hair. Her body was tense, hungry, and the smile she shot him was nothing if not predatory. Maybe a little mean. The Alliance didn’t claim she was a renegade for nothing. “It’s not on me anymore, Alenko,” she said—then arched a single brow, both daring him and giving an order he’d be a damn fool to ignore. “So why don’t you do something about that?”
Kaidan just laughed, ducking his head to nuzzle a delicious beard burn against her stomach. Sweet where she was nothing but salt, their roles easily flipping back and forth like a coin caught forever mid-spin. “Yes ma’am,” he said, letting his breath fan across her quivering skin just to make her jump—and then he did just that.