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It'd been some time coming, Garrus thought as he double-checked the camera feed of Zaeed's he'd tapped into, making sure the crew deck was empty. Just her, in the kitchen, a lightness in her step as she moved between the counters – another uncharacteristic behavior quirk that only happened when she thought she was alone.
The Samara that disembarked the Normandy was not the same one when they left Omega, but neither Shepard nor the withdrawn justicar commented on it.
He wasn't a blind fool. There were little signs that happened over the last month, adding up to a greater picture. It wasn't until he pulled some favors with old contacts on Omega that he figured it out. With some further digging, he was able to uncover Samara's personal history and then the pieces fell together all at once.
Ardat-Yakshi. There wasn't much to be found on them that wasn't steeped in the legendary, shrouded in myth and passed off as tales from a time when the asari huddled by fires and told stories to keep warm. Yet if one looked closely enough, there were classified leads, small hints that they were still very much alive.
It clarified a lot. The lingering glances between them, the stray touch of a finger. A secret binding them together, but it was more than that, a hunger in the way the asari watched Shepard.
That Shepard kept it a secret didn't bother him. Or so he told himself, but to be fair on her, he wasn't sharing the whole picture with her either.
Lately she'd been more withdrawn, keeping a distance. Keeping to the dangerous genetic aberration. He tried bringing it up once but the words caught in his throat. They weren't exactly exclusive, never made any pretenses to be either. And there was that distance. Trying as they were, there was still a slight gap: an echo of dissonance throwing them off as they tried again and again. Could they ever bridge it...
He shook the thought from his mind and triple-checked the deck – just the asari and him.
Pistol in hand, he exited the main battery and marched past the cryo pods. In the kitchen, the asari posing as Samara sat on the table, legs crossed as she sipped from a cup.
“Ah, Garrus,” she greeted, voice cool and detached as she gave a slight nod. “I see you also struggle to sleep this night.”
“Drop the act, Morinth,” Garrus snarled, pointing the gun at her.
The sudden switch in facial expression was unnerving to Garrus: the asari in front of him went from the cold-eyed stare and hard jaw to a softer, more relaxed countenance. Gone was all the sorrow, all the restraint, replaced instead with a devious smile as the asari rolled her head from side to side before fixing her gaze upon him, almost... Predatory.
She emptied the cup and put it down. “How did you know?” she asked in a lazy drawl, stretching her arms, the skin-tight suit leaving little to the imagination. “Did Shepard tell on our little secret?”
It was in the way her mouth looked, he decided: Samara's lips were relaxed, neutral, slightly parted to reveal a glimpse of teeth. Morinth's, on the other hand, were constantly graced with a half-smile, moving and changing. Both inviting and... So many other things.
“No,” Garrus said. “You're not as good at pretense as you'd like to believe.”
A flicker of annoyance passed across her features before it was smoothed out. “Aren't you a clever one.”
His mandibles twitched. “What did you tell Shepard to make her trust you?”
“Nothing.” Morinth kept teasing and evading what he wanted to know, and his patience snapped.
With a quick movement he grabbed at her throat, knocking her down onto the table. After she caught her breath she only laughed, infuriating him even further.
“Whatever it is you're planning on doing to her,” he snarled into her aural crease, “know it won't work. I won't let you. If you even dare to try anything with her, Ardat-Yakshi...” His hold on her throat tightened, and he felt the humming vibrations of a muted protest. “If you'd even dare to think of it, I will find you. I will hunt you to the ends of the galaxy.”
She worked two fingers between his hand and her throat, easing the grip enough so that she could talk. “Now why would I threaten her life?” There was a shift in Morinth's calm voice, the tone lowered and aggressive even as she squirmed on the table. “Biting the hand that helps is awfully foolish.”
“It's what you do. It is your nature.”
“My nature?” She pushed herself up, propped up on elbows. Her tongue flicked out, skimming across the barrel of the gun. There was a strange sensuality in seeing that wet flesh, a prickle that travelled throughout Garrus' being. “There are many things in my nature, and stupidity is not one of them.”
Her eyes fluttered close and he jerked her head, snapping them right back open. If she was dismayed she didn't express it, merely re-focusing her gaze on him.
“I always admired you, Garrus. There's a darkness inside you. Ruthlessness, danger. As ashamed as you are of it, it also excites you.”
With a light hand she guided his hand downwards, just a push and then he continued the motion. The gun pressed into her flesh as he dragged it down the opening at her chest, fascinated with the light blue skin, the softness against the metal... When she suddenly twisted to grab at his wrist. The move failed, but the barrel was pushed against her breast, making dark indentations as she breathed deeply.
“Stop it,” he snapped at her.
“You should demand,” she said, willfully ignoring what he said. “Take charge. You were the force that nearly changed Omega – remember how that husk of a rock trembled on the cusp of what you might have accomplished...” She arched towards him, rolling her head back so that the delicate neck was exposed for only a second before she lowered the chin again.
“This has nothing to do with Shepard.” He pushed out each word, tempering his frustration.
“On the contrary. This is all about her, is it not?”
“That is none of your business!” he growled.
Nothing about his rage fazed her, instead it seemed to... Tempt her. She took the pistol between her delicate long fingers, the fingertips barely touching it as she urged his hand to hold it up near her face, and she stroked it against her sharp cheekbone, sighing happily. “How much do you want her?” she asked as she parted her lips, the tongue appearing again to wet them. “Not just the body, but what lies beneath... The promise, the fulfillment, the pounding feelings. To have her pupils dilate merely from your presence.”
“Don't...”
“What is it you want, Vakarian?”
He pushed the gun barrel between her lips, and she immediately hollowed her cheeks around it, eyes locked with his as a drop of saliva ran down from the corner of her mouth.
A thousand demands, a hundred threats, they all melted from his mind as he moved the gun in and out of her soft mouth, pushing it just a fraction deeper each time. Her hands moved to around his wrist then split apart, one holding on to the arm as the other travelled down his torso, the flat of her palm pressing uncomfortably at the protective plating.
“I would kill you for her safety,” he said as she worked a finger past the clothing and nudged the plates apart, the fingertip just grazing the flesh underneath.
She removed her mouth from the gun, licking her lips before she spoke. “For her, I will do that which civilized people do not speak of.” She let her finger slide out and ran it over her exposed tongue, about to say something when a loud cry cut through their bubble.
He recognized the sound, an unmistakable noise he strove to hear from Shepard in bed.
She straightened up, sight focused on the starboard observatory. “If you excuse me, I have someone to attend to.”
A blast of biotic energy sent him skidding across the floor. She headed towards the observatory with a light bounce in her step, but he wasn't going to let her off that easily. Getting up he pursued, pushing her against the wall right by the door.
“What are you doing with her in there?” he demanded to know.
She slipped under his arm and punched the lock, opening the door. “Game night,” and she gestured for him to step inside.
As the doors closed behind them he merely stood there, gazing at the sight as his mandibles twitched.
Shepard hung suspended from the ceiling with an elaborate set of knots and hooks keeping her there, arms tied behind her back with the tip of her toes barely skimming the floor. She had no clothing on at all except for a pair of panties and a black gag covering her mouth. When she tried to twist her head around Morinth snapped it back in place then planted a kiss at the back of the neck.
“Don't look like that,” Morinth said, unclear who she was addressing. “It's more or less consensual. You don't need control of someone's mind to gain control of their lusts and desires.” She turned around and took Garrus by the hand, pulling him closer.
“Just a game?” he asked dubiously, maintaing a respectful distance. Unsure what to think he opted to try not to over-analyze the situation, but it was hard to focus himself on anything else than the utter vulnerability of Shepard as Morinth pressed tender kisses to her shoulders.
It was not something she had mentioned to him, not directly. He would never have thought she was into it, but he chided himself: underestimating or making assumptions about her was a mistake. She was never either/or, she was always both: sweet and cunning, protective and harmful. The muscles in her body tensed even as she was unable to do anything about it, left to the workings of another pair of hands. Subject to someone else's will.
“Perhaps a bit more or less depending on the circumstances, but always a game. She loves the anticipation of the game. Of waiting to see what happens. There are just so many...” Morinth touched Shepard's naked back, running one long finger down her spine and leaving a slight red mark from her nail as she got to the curve of Shepard's ass. “Possibilities.”
Garrus circled around to the front, keeping his eyes level with Shepard's. Her cheeks grew a shade of pink and Morinth laughed, her hands at the curve of Shepard's hips.
“Isn't she beautiful like this? The great Commander, tied up, submitting to what another commands of her. She is poetry in the sweet, warm flesh.” Morinth gave Shepard's thigh a squeeze, their bodies pressed close together as Shepard leant back into the asari's arms.
“Shepard?” He was about to reach out and touch her, but the fingers curled up into a fist instead, remaining at his side. “Amelise?”
“Look into her eyes, Garrus.” Morinth held Shepard by the chin, angling her face up towards him. “They will tell you what she wants.”
Amelise's eyes were downcast at first, the eyelashes fluttering erratically before she closed them once and then opened them, meeting his. He didn't know much about humans and their physical cues, but he knew her: the dark desire coupled with the cheeks suffused with red. The pleading whimper she let out as she looked at him, rubbing her thighs together.
Circling back around and breaking their eye contact, he closed his own eyes as he leaned over her from behind, drawing in deep of her sweat and sweet perfume scent. “Are you sure?” he murmured, hooking one claw under the hem of her panties, testing the fabric.
She nodded, and that was all the affirmation he needed.
Ripping the fabric was easy, but it was pulled up and rubbed against her sex. She tensed, sighing softly underneath the gag as he removed the final pieces, letting them fall to the floor.
“I knew you had it in you,” Morinth murmured as she watched them with a tilted head.
Garrus tried to ignore the voyeuristic gaze as he focused all his senses on Amelise's body, his hands following the smooth curves and lean muscles. Small tremors shook through her when he accidentally let his sharp talons graze the bare skin, and it broke so easily with a bit of pressure applied. Her back was covered in a sheen of sweat, making his clothing cling to her.
Still, he felt that sting of uncertainty. With much reluctance he turned again to Morinth.
“What is it she likes?” he asked, genuinely wanting her guidance. He knew himself, knew his likes, his strength, the way he could slice a human open in three seconds flat and let them bleed to death with merely his claws. What he did not know was how far he could push that with Amelise.
“The pain.” Morinth's voice was husky as she stroked Amelise's jaw. “It is what gives her pleasure.”
Running one claw along her side she whimpered and thrashed in her bondage, but Morinth encouraged him to continue with a nod of her head.
He dragged the sharp tips along the skin, slowly increasing pressure until he felt it break under him. A trickle of warm, red blood spilled out and Morinth's mouth was there instantly, licking up the drops as she gazed at Garrus with hooded eyes. Wherever his touch pierced skin, she was quick to follow, her tongue curling around his digits to suck them clean with utmost care when he paused.
Morinth dipped her hand between Amelise's legs, doing something with her fingers that had the human squirming up against Garrus' groin. He had to hold her still and take a deep breath, calming himself down, but Morinth wasn't having that.
She instead pushed down his clothing just enough, her little finger teasing along the plate edges for only a second before his erection sprung free. He heaved a sigh in relief, leaning his head on Amelise's shoulder as Morinth began working her slick hand up and down his shaft.
Riding on the wave of newfound confidence, it started coming naturally to him. Especially since the body pressed between them was so responsive, letting them know immediately when they were hitting the right spot for her.
Spreading Amelise's legs apart, he lifted her up a bit and held her there, the tip of his cock rubbing against her wet labia. She squirmed, the noises from her mouth equal parts frustration and desperation as he just enjoyed the slow motion, sliding it back and forth as the lips parted and he shallowly stroked between them.
“I think she's taken enough torture,” Morinth said, one hand on his shaft as she guided him inside.
The tight warmth yielded to his girth, but he still groaned and bit into Amelise's shoulder as he sheathed himself inside her. For a while he merely stood there, feeling each twitch in her body as he breathed in and out, smelling her – her sex – smelling Morinth. It was heady, dizzying even to think about what he was doing, but his doubts dissolved. It felt right, what more was there to it... What was it she called that feeling? Gut instinct.
Slowly he withdrew himself and then thrust back in just as slow, increasing only slightly with each stroke, going a little bit deeper until he bottomed out. She was moaning into the gag, leaning back against his chest and arching herself to create a better angle for him.
Morinth got a devious look on her face and she kissed a path down Amelise's front, her mouth passing over where Garrus was grabbing on to the supple flesh, tongue stroking his digits briefly. He slowed his movements when she put a hand on his leg, and then her tongue was at the base of his cock, running up along the ridge before circling where it met with Amelise. Both of them groaned from her ministrations, the tongue flicking over sensitive zones for both.
He started up again, slow and careful until Morinth moved her mouth up a bit, and then he began thrusting in earnest, his claws scratching at Amelise. She was strung taut between them, shivering slightly as she struggled against the binds fruitlessly.
They found a rhythm, rocking Amelise back and forth between cock and mouth, the moans turning to gasps. Garrus found himself swept up in the throes of pure need, biting into her shoulders as he pushed inside, fingers squeezing her breasts and pushing her against Morinth's tongue.
An electric tingle went through him and he shuddered, grunting as his muscles tightened in response. Looking down over Amelise's shoulder he saw Morinth gazing back up, a biotic glow surrounding her body as she winked at him. Her eyes flashed black momentarily but before he could react and peel her away from Amelise they returned to their normal blue, and she grinned before her mouth disappeared behind the mound of Amelise's sex again.
That rage surged again, and he snarled as he tried to claw at the asari between the thighs, but a pulse of biotic energy across his body stopped him. He had to stand there, absolutely still, feeling all too close to coming right then and there as Amelise pushed herself down on his cock and Morinth rose up to eye-level with Garrus. Her hand reached over the human and pulled at his collar, tugging him close to her lips that were glistening wet.
Her other finger was still between Amelise's legs, fingers playing expertly across both of them as her tongue moved over Garrus' mouth. “Go on,” she murmured, and his tongue met hers, tasting Amelise and Morinth all at once. He moved again, rough and hard, all three of them shaking with the force of the fucking.
He was so close when Morinth pulled another biotic trick, the entire room lit up with the light glow as all three of them let out incoherent noises, pushed over the brink. Amelise came first, whimpering as she tensed and began shaking, then Garrus, burying himself as deep as he could. He came as he bit down into flesh, claws digging in too, and then Morinth sighed softly before the room returned to its former state.
Garrus untangled himself first, stumbling back onto the couch in the corner as he flopped down on the cushions, the erection softening as she caught his breath. He watched Morinth undoing the ropes, Amelise slumping down on the floor before the asari picked her up with a show of strength he'd never assumed from the lithe graceful body she possessed.
She carried Amelise to the couch, placing her by Garrus before sitting down on the other side. Amelise put her head on Morinth's lap, hands still shaking as Morinth untied the gag.
“Did it satisfy you?” Morinth asked, pressing a soft kiss to Shepard's brow as she began undoing the knots around the wrists and elbows, her eye wandering to Garrus.
Amelise nodded, glancing at Garrus who met her eyes.
They still had some ways to go, he knew as much, but in that precise moment, they were right. Just absolutely, perfectly right.
“Thank you,” she said in a shaky voice, eyes closing as Morinth ran fingers through her short hair.
“Anytime,” he replied, moving closer to let her rest her legs across his, stroking the sweaty skin criss-crossed with red bleeding welts as they all came down from their high in mutual, thoughtful silence.