The Translation in Blood

Hannah would never believe it, but watching the Turian hunt for her was probably the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

He hadn't bothered putting clothes on, and she was content to just run around in panties and her close-fitting undershirt. She was perched on a rock trying desperately to untangle her hair when she noticed something around and furry and really quite fast bolt from side of the ravine to the other, and then zip down towards the pool.

She made a yelp and pointed in surprise, and after her big naked Turian figured out that there was no threat, he took off running in the direction the little plump critter had run to.

It should have been funny; giant, avian-like predator taking off like a cheeta over rocks, boulders, and lunging off the steep ravine walls, trying to pin down a creature that looked somewhat like a fat furry pig. Instead, Hannah was left breathless, watching the lines of his body, the lean curl and pace of a runner and the horrible grace of a carnivore intent on its kill.

He leapt forward and for a moment, time held frozen and Sparatus' body, stretched out from toes to talons, split shadow and beams of golden light.

She didn't remember how she got to his side, his spine curved and exposed to her as he crouched over his kill. He was washing his hands in the stream when he looked up at her, mandibles flared in a smile. The smile faded when he took her in, though; naked and breathing hard and moving to him with deliberate care.

His arms opened to accept her even as her arms wound around his throat, and his growl of pleasant amusement had her rubbing up against him. Leather-soft plates chafed sensuously against human skin, talons dimpling skin as they clawed across her ass, nails scratching audibly across Turian scales. His mouth parted to take her kiss and taste her tongue, and it didn't take long before he was happily pinned in the mud with Hannah astride him.

He gripped her hips and lifted her, spreading her thighs as his pelvis dipped and bucked and thrust up to encase himself within her. Her soft cry was answered by his gentle snarl, sliding rough hands up to cup her breasts as she settled down atop him.

He was trying to go for a quick pace, deep and firm, but she'd have none of it. Her thighs squeezed his hips and she shook her head at him, pressing her hands against his chest as she leaned over him. He was angular and bony in places she wasn't used to, but clinging to him for leverage was easy enough; her pace was slow, careful, and the shape of him enabled to obtain a good, solid grip on him.

The light here was clearer, the sun high overhead, warm on her skin as she road her Turian. She could see those beautiful green eyes of his, watching the emotion flit across his face as she maintained visual contact. She couldn't stop touching him either; her hands kept straying up his neck, cupping and brushing his flexing jawline. Fingertips ran across lips that offered a quick tongue to taste her skin, parted to moan softly at her as it made her pick up her pace a little.

It was getting harder to focus on her rhythm and her pace, though; his hands were digging into her thighs, dragging up her hips to help her rise and fall, dart in and out, rub deep and warm within-

Her eyes began to flutter; oh yes, it was getting harder to focus.

He sat up and drew her deeper into his lap, changing the angle as he brought her hips flush to his. His knees bent under her and he gripped her ass, drawing her up and down, keeping her gaze, watching her watch him. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs stroking across the beautiful lines sweeping across his cheeks, her breath feathering across his face as he brought her down harder, pushing soft little noises from her.

There was an expression of smug tenderness at that, and she brought her frown to bear on him playfully as she gripped his hips with her knees, halted her pumping, and paused to roll her pelvis in a firm, hard grind.

The laughter faded from his eyes and the growl that resonated within him had all the makings of a defiant roar.

She dipped her head to kiss him again, and again, pleased to feel him respond and continued to roll her hips around him and on him. Still, she struggled to keep her eyes open, to watch him, and it was undoing her to see him fight to do the same. His three-fingered hand came up to brush her throat, stroke across her cheek in an echo of her own touch. Such a simple gesture, it opened up something inside her chest, something warm and aching, pouring through her like liquid gold.

This had suddenly become more than just sex.

"Sparatus-" she moaned, terrified and startled, renewing her grip on him in some strange fear of falling.

"Hannah," he growled back, his tone pleading with her, skipping across her nerve-endings like sparks on kindling. His arms wound tight around her waist, hands splaying across her ass and lower back as he urged her firmly, deeper, harder, and just a little faster. "Keep going," he gasped, still watching, still looking. "Please... please keep on... don't let go..."

Hearing 'please' from this warrior-hunter's lips was enough to break her alone, but it was the suggestion in his tone that he was begging her for more than just her rhythm, more than just the release that was already gathering like a wave above them both.

She wasn't going to make it; her eyes were going to snap shut because it was becoming too much and she was clenching and squeezing and there was a quake in her hips that just wouldn't stop. Whimpers spilled from her lips as she clawed at his shoulders, vision swimming with those beautiful eyes of his, green and warm and darkening by the second-

One hand caught the side of her face and held her attention, while his other gripped her hard and bucked quick and deep in a series of rapid thrusts that pushed cry after startled, desperate cry from her, until they both shattered. They clung to each other, eyes wide in an expression that would have been comical anywhere else, but they were so stunned, holding on and shaking, his own low calls bouncing off the ravine walls. Kill forgotten. War left behind.

The sun was warm on her shoulders, her whole body shaking with the experience still seeping through her bones. Their eyes were still locked, panting into each others' faces as they bathed in bliss and ignored any emotional implications feathering at the edges of their consciousness. Hands would stray across cheeks and brows, fingers tangling in hair or stroking across fringe... tease the edge of an ear, brush the opening of lips...

Hannah came back to herself a few seconds first; her slow smile was eventually met by his, and it was a radiant thing to feel.

"Forgot.. you can't hear me think," she teased, arms settling around his neck, cradled by cowel and shoulders.

He chuckled and gave a breathless nod. "Mmm. I think I know what you-"

A noise bounced across the savannah above them, shattered the peace of their ravine as the distinct sound of gunfire echoed around them.

The war they'd forgotten had reminded them it was still very much there.

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