The Control Chip 4/?
anonymous
February 15 2015, 22:41:06 UTC
“I bet you’ve never been ridden like this before,” she gasped. “You’re the type who would always want to be on top, in control. But you can’t do that now. Not with me. I could keep you right here, on the edge, putting just enough pressure to prevent you from coming.”
“Please,” Shepard said. Miranda had no idea if he heard her, or was just still desperately begging her. “N-need to - p-please,”
She ground her hips against him, hard, and he arched his back in response. He grabbed at her hips in a desperate motion, his breathing turning fast and sharp. Miranda rolled her hips forward, testing his responses, and then leaned over to whisper a single word in his ear.
“Come.”
She righted herself in time to feel Shepard shake and push himself even harder against her. His moans seemed to echo off of the walls as he continued to mindlessly pump against her body. It only took a few thrusts for her own climax to follow, and the sounds of her wanton moans seemed to drive him into a frenzy. Miranda was going to have a few bruises of her own, but just then she didn’t give a damn about that.
Shepard usually had incredible stamina - thank you, Cerberus engineering - but he didn’t last as long this time, probably because she had teased and brought him right to the edge before allowing him to plummet over. His breathing became slower, his grip slackened until his hands fell loosely onto the bed. Miranda ran her hands over his well-muscled chest a few times and watched his face relax into an expression of contentment. She had never seen that before. This encounter had shattered many of her expectations, but in a good way. Using him as a mindless sex toy was one thing. Guiding him, stoking his arousal, making him weak in a way that he probably had never been before, had been even more of a rush.
She was definitely going to have to do this again.
In an impish gesture, Miranda leaned in and nibbled at his neck, giving him a mark that he wouldn’t remember receiving. She wished she could see his reaction when he found it later. Then she pulled herself off of him and walked over to the washstand, cleaning herself up before coming back to wipe down Shepard’s groin as she always did.
“Dress,” she ordered him, seeing to her own clothes and brushing her hair to make it seem as though nothing had happened. She adjusted the collar on his shirt so that it hid her mark and he’d find it in private. As tempting as it was to create the entertainment of watching him melt down in public, she still didn’t want to do anything that would arouse suspicion amongst the crew.
Miranda inspected Shepard’s fully clothed form, making sure that he looked normal, and then gave him the same commands she always did. “Code 0002. Memory replacement. We argued. You stormed out. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Inconsistencies will be rationalized. Commands will take effect when you leave this room. Accept.”
“Accepted,” Shepard said in a flat, emotionless tone.
Miranda smiled. “Leave the room. End override.”
Shepard turned and walked out of the room. Before the door slid fully closed, she heard him muttering to himself, saying uncomplimentary things about her. She smirked, pleased with her efforts, and walked back to her desk to begin writing her after-action report. She’d have to do something to placate the Illusive Man so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. Because it was more important than ever to guard the secret of what she did to Shepard in secret.
--
- hands, teasing, coaxing, wringing more out of him than he would have thought possible … intense pleasure, so intense, feels so damn good please more please…
Black hair falls across perfect features, damn the woman for being so attractive, and she fucking knows it too, knows how damn sexy she is, and why does that make me so fucking hard …
“Miranda,” Shepard gasped, eyes closed, both hands around his stiff cock. “Miranda.”
“Please,” Shepard said. Miranda had no idea if he heard her, or was just still desperately begging her. “N-need to - p-please,”
She ground her hips against him, hard, and he arched his back in response. He grabbed at her hips in a desperate motion, his breathing turning fast and sharp. Miranda rolled her hips forward, testing his responses, and then leaned over to whisper a single word in his ear.
“Come.”
She righted herself in time to feel Shepard shake and push himself even harder against her. His moans seemed to echo off of the walls as he continued to mindlessly pump against her body. It only took a few thrusts for her own climax to follow, and the sounds of her wanton moans seemed to drive him into a frenzy. Miranda was going to have a few bruises of her own, but just then she didn’t give a damn about that.
Shepard usually had incredible stamina - thank you, Cerberus engineering - but he didn’t last as long this time, probably because she had teased and brought him right to the edge before allowing him to plummet over. His breathing became slower, his grip slackened until his hands fell loosely onto the bed. Miranda ran her hands over his well-muscled chest a few times and watched his face relax into an expression of contentment. She had never seen that before. This encounter had shattered many of her expectations, but in a good way. Using him as a mindless sex toy was one thing. Guiding him, stoking his arousal, making him weak in a way that he probably had never been before, had been even more of a rush.
She was definitely going to have to do this again.
In an impish gesture, Miranda leaned in and nibbled at his neck, giving him a mark that he wouldn’t remember receiving. She wished she could see his reaction when he found it later. Then she pulled herself off of him and walked over to the washstand, cleaning herself up before coming back to wipe down Shepard’s groin as she always did.
“Dress,” she ordered him, seeing to her own clothes and brushing her hair to make it seem as though nothing had happened. She adjusted the collar on his shirt so that it hid her mark and he’d find it in private. As tempting as it was to create the entertainment of watching him melt down in public, she still didn’t want to do anything that would arouse suspicion amongst the crew.
Miranda inspected Shepard’s fully clothed form, making sure that he looked normal, and then gave him the same commands she always did. “Code 0002. Memory replacement. We argued. You stormed out. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Inconsistencies will be rationalized. Commands will take effect when you leave this room. Accept.”
“Accepted,” Shepard said in a flat, emotionless tone.
Miranda smiled. “Leave the room. End override.”
Shepard turned and walked out of the room. Before the door slid fully closed, she heard him muttering to himself, saying uncomplimentary things about her. She smirked, pleased with her efforts, and walked back to her desk to begin writing her after-action report. She’d have to do something to placate the Illusive Man so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. Because it was more important than ever to guard the secret of what she did to Shepard in secret.
--
- hands, teasing, coaxing, wringing more out of him than he would have thought possible … intense pleasure, so intense, feels so damn good please more please…
Black hair falls across perfect features, damn the woman for being so attractive, and she fucking knows it too, knows how damn sexy she is, and why does that make me so fucking hard …
“Miranda,” Shepard gasped, eyes closed, both hands around his stiff cock. “Miranda.”
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Glad you are back, A!A!
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Regardless, this is hot as hell and completely awesome. Nice work.
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