Biotic Bondage (Garrus/Miranda) 4/?
anonymous
February 5 2016, 03:25:35 UTC
She walks behind him and runs her hand across his fringe, lingering at the tips. Garrus whimpers and almost involuntarily jerks his hips upwards. The shame in how easily she can affect him has vanished under the unalloyed pleasure that she is giving him - her hesitation, her willingness to back off showing him that there is more to Miss Perfect than he had thought. A true cold-hearted bitch would have just kept going without any concern for his feelings.
The thought allows him to completely relax, both physically and mentally. Garrus lets out a sigh, and he sees Miranda smile. “I see that I’m on the right track,” she says. Her hand migrates to his shoulder, then trails down his chest. She walks in a circle around him, both hands touching him, leaving a tingling sensation in her wake. He suspects that she is using her biotics to cheat. He doesn’t mind in the least.
When Miranda stops between his legs, her eyes meeting his, he feels his heart start to beat faster, his erection seeming to ache and throb in time with that beat. She meets his eyes, and smiles, and then runs a finger up his length.
Garrus arches his back again, and he swears that he can feel the air - the biotic cushion around him - heating up. His arms strain at the invisible bonds. He wants to grab her, to nuzzle her neck, to see if her breasts are as soft as he thinks they are.
But Miranda’s biotics will not permit him to do any of those things, and from the very satisfied look on her face, she has guessed some of what is going on in his head. A few more moments of wasted struggle leave him feeling on edge, her hand movements threatening to send him over any second now. He moans loudly.
“I love watching you struggle,” Miranda says, almost too calmly for the situation they are both in. “You have to know that you can’t affect the outcome. I can.”
Garrus moans again, and this time the sound edges into a plaintive keen. Her hand is tight; he can feel himself quivering in her grip. His hips wriggle, trying desperately to thrust into something.
Two things happen in an instant. Miranda opens her hand, and the biotic cushion flares with a tingling energy. He feels a cry tearing at his throat and then it all hits him, a climax more intense than any he has ever felt before. His mind blanks out, overloaded from everything Miranda has done to him, and he simply rides the wave of electric pleasure. The bonds are as firm as ever, somehow seeming to heighten something that is already verging on indescribable.
When the wave has retreated and he can think again, he hears Miranda moaning. Garrus opens his eyes to see her leaning against a nearby wall, her jumpsuit unzipped, her hand moving frantically between her legs. Garrus feels a moment of disappointment, that she has had to make do with her own hand when she has done so much more to him. His cock jumps as though in protest when she hitches her breath in, head thudding against the wall as her moan becomes prolonged and heartfelt.
He waits until he’s sure she’s finished before he speaks. “Next time, I get to do that.”
Miranda opens her eyes and looks at him, her face unreadable. She raised her hand and he feels himself drifting to the ground, the bonds loosened, his limbs under his control again. “Next time?”
Garrus snorts. “Miranda. You can’t give me the most mind-blowing sex of my life and expect me not to want to come back for more.” He pauses, his stomach flipping as something occurs to him. “Unless… you don’t …”
“Idiot,” Miranda curses, which actually makes him feel better. “You saw what I was doing. How much more proof of my enjoyment do you need?”
“Then we’re in agreement that there will be a next time,” Garrus says.
“Yes. Yes. I’ll have to figure out …” Miranda trails off, shaking her head. “No matter. There’s a shower in the back; go clean yourself up, Garrus. No need to advertise this to the rest of the crew.”
“I appreciate that,” Garrus replies dryly, gathering his clothes from the ground before he heads to the shower.
Re: Biotic Bondage (Garrus/Miranda) 4/? -- A!A
anonymous
February 5 2016, 03:27:15 UTC
Argh, A!A apologies for the formatting fail. Here's the latter half, properly formatted. -- “I love watching you struggle,” Miranda says, almost too calmly for the situation they are both in. “You have to know that you can’t affect the outcome. I can.”
Garrus moans again, and this time the sound edges into a plaintive keen. Her hand is tight; he can feel himself quivering in her grip. His hips wriggle, trying desperately to thrust into something.
Two things happen in an instant. Miranda opens her hand, and the biotic cushion flares with a tingling energy. He feels a cry tearing at his throat and then it all hits him, a climax more intense than any he has ever felt before. His mind blanks out, overloaded from everything Miranda has done to him, and he simply rides the wave of electric pleasure. The bonds are as firm as ever, somehow seeming to heighten something that is already verging on indescribable.
When the wave has retreated and he can think again, he hears Miranda moaning. Garrus opens his eyes to see her leaning against a nearby wall, her jumpsuit unzipped, her hand moving frantically between her legs. Garrus feels a moment of disappointment, that she has had to make do with her own hand when she has done so much more to him. His cock jumps as though in protest when she hitches her breath in, head thudding against the wall as her moan becomes prolonged and heartfelt.
He waits until he’s sure she’s finished before he speaks. “Next time, I get to do that.”
Miranda opens her eyes and looks at him, her face unreadable. She raised her hand and he feels himself drifting to the ground, the bonds loosened, his limbs under his control again. “Next time?”
Garrus snorts. “Miranda. You can’t give me the most mind-blowing sex of my life and expect me not to want to come back for more.” He pauses, his stomach flipping as something occurs to him. “Unless… you don’t …”
“Idiot,” Miranda curses, which actually makes him feel better. “You saw what I was doing. How much more proof of my enjoyment do you need?”
“Then we’re in agreement that there will be a next time,” Garrus says.
“Yes. Yes. I’ll have to figure out …” Miranda trails off, shaking her head. “No matter. There’s a shower in the back; go clean yourself up, Garrus. No need to advertise this to the rest of the crew.”
“I appreciate that,” Garrus replies dryly, gathering his clothes from the ground before he heads to the shower.
The thought allows him to completely relax, both physically and mentally. Garrus lets out a sigh, and he sees Miranda smile. “I see that I’m on the right track,” she says. Her hand migrates to his shoulder, then trails down his chest. She walks in a circle around him, both hands touching him, leaving a tingling sensation in her wake. He suspects that she is using her biotics to cheat. He doesn’t mind in the least.
When Miranda stops between his legs, her eyes meeting his, he feels his heart start to beat faster, his erection seeming to ache and throb in time with that beat. She meets his eyes, and smiles, and then runs a finger up his length.
Garrus arches his back again, and he swears that he can feel the air - the biotic cushion around him - heating up. His arms strain at the invisible bonds. He wants to grab her, to nuzzle her neck, to see if her breasts are as soft as he thinks they are.
But Miranda’s biotics will not permit him to do any of those things, and from the very satisfied look on her face, she has guessed some of what is going on in his head. A few more moments of wasted struggle leave him feeling on edge, her hand movements threatening to send him over any second now. He moans loudly.
“I love watching you struggle,” Miranda says, almost too calmly for the situation they are both in. “You have to know that you can’t affect the outcome. I can.”
Garrus moans again, and this time the sound edges into a plaintive keen. Her hand is tight; he can feel himself quivering in her grip. His hips wriggle, trying desperately to thrust into something.
Two things happen in an instant. Miranda opens her hand, and the biotic cushion flares with a tingling energy. He feels a cry tearing at his throat and then it all hits him, a climax more intense than any he has ever felt before. His mind blanks out, overloaded from everything Miranda has done to him, and he simply rides the wave of electric pleasure. The bonds are as firm as ever, somehow seeming to heighten something that is already verging on indescribable.
When the wave has retreated and he can think again, he hears Miranda moaning. Garrus opens his eyes to see her leaning against a nearby wall, her jumpsuit unzipped, her hand moving frantically between her legs. Garrus feels a moment of disappointment, that she has had to make do with her own hand when she has done so much more to him. His cock jumps as though in protest when she hitches her breath in, head thudding against the wall as her moan becomes prolonged and heartfelt.
He waits until he’s sure she’s finished before he speaks. “Next time, I get to do that.”
Miranda opens her eyes and looks at him, her face unreadable. She raised her hand and he feels himself drifting to the ground, the bonds loosened, his limbs under his control again. “Next time?”
Garrus snorts. “Miranda. You can’t give me the most mind-blowing sex of my life and expect me not to want to come back for more.” He pauses, his stomach flipping as something occurs to him. “Unless… you don’t …”
“Idiot,” Miranda curses, which actually makes him feel better. “You saw what I was doing. How much more proof of my enjoyment do you need?”
“Then we’re in agreement that there will be a next time,” Garrus says.
“Yes. Yes. I’ll have to figure out …” Miranda trails off, shaking her head. “No matter. There’s a shower in the back; go clean yourself up, Garrus. No need to advertise this to the rest of the crew.”
“I appreciate that,” Garrus replies dryly, gathering his clothes from the ground before he heads to the shower.
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--
“I love watching you struggle,” Miranda says, almost too calmly for the situation they are both in. “You have to know that you can’t affect the outcome. I can.”
Garrus moans again, and this time the sound edges into a plaintive keen. Her hand is tight; he can feel himself quivering in her grip. His hips wriggle, trying desperately to thrust into something.
Two things happen in an instant. Miranda opens her hand, and the biotic cushion flares with a tingling energy. He feels a cry tearing at his throat and then it all hits him, a climax more intense than any he has ever felt before. His mind blanks out, overloaded from everything Miranda has done to him, and he simply rides the wave of electric pleasure. The bonds are as firm as ever, somehow seeming to heighten something that is already verging on indescribable.
When the wave has retreated and he can think again, he hears Miranda moaning. Garrus opens his eyes to see her leaning against a nearby wall, her jumpsuit unzipped, her hand moving frantically between her legs. Garrus feels a moment of disappointment, that she has had to make do with her own hand when she has done so much more to him. His cock jumps as though in protest when she hitches her breath in, head thudding against the wall as her moan becomes prolonged and heartfelt.
He waits until he’s sure she’s finished before he speaks. “Next time, I get to do that.”
Miranda opens her eyes and looks at him, her face unreadable. She raised her hand and he feels himself drifting to the ground, the bonds loosened, his limbs under his control again. “Next time?”
Garrus snorts. “Miranda. You can’t give me the most mind-blowing sex of my life and expect me not to want to come back for more.” He pauses, his stomach flipping as something occurs to him. “Unless… you don’t …”
“Idiot,” Miranda curses, which actually makes him feel better. “You saw what I was doing. How much more proof of my enjoyment do you need?”
“Then we’re in agreement that there will be a next time,” Garrus says.
“Yes. Yes. I’ll have to figure out …” Miranda trails off, shaking her head. “No matter. There’s a shower in the back; go clean yourself up, Garrus. No need to advertise this to the rest of the crew.”
“I appreciate that,” Garrus replies dryly, gathering his clothes from the ground before he heads to the shower.
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man, what is Shep going to make of this new chemistry between Garrus and Miranda when they get back, haha
(Captcha: "MINTY FRESH", incl allcaps. Seems appropriate somehow.)
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