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He could smell her. Even if he couldn’t see her, he could--- wait, there she was! A flash of red hair, a pale face that looked back at him before it was gone again. Her scent was strong enough to make him delirious with delight, with ecstasy, with hunger, and he could feel saliva pool around his teeth.
He ran past dingy buildings and shocked humans - or aliens, he could barely tell the difference at this speed, and he didn’t really care - that jumped back. Some had the gall to shout after him, something like “Watch it, pyjack!” and “Slow it down, man!” but he didn’t listen, didn’t care in the slightest.
He was gaining on her, and he wasn’t tired yet, could keep going for hours. She was a human, he was a turian. Both were predators, but the turians were built for hunting down their enemies over extended periods of time, whereas humans got winded easily.
It was almost too easy.
Flying past the Afterlife club, he followed her scent. It was one of not fear, not the absolute terror one would associate with being chased by someone much bigger than yourself, not the horror of knowing that your pursuer could tear you to shreds in the blink of an eye. There was no panic of having to run for miles, no dread when she ended up in an alley.
Perfect.
A glimpse of flaming red hair that disappeared behind a wall, and he followed her into the alley.
There she was, rushing towards the far end, and then, finding that it ended blind and that she couldn’t climb the wall. She turned around, a wild expression on her face that made his stomach twist and turn, and he could barely control the ferocious growl.
“Get back!” she shouted, and her voice, oh how breathy and tight it was, how strident and drenched in… anticipation.
“Not a chance,” he all but purred as he slowed down, sauntered up to her instead of the animalistic pace they had both been following. His visor made it very clear that her heartbeat was accelerated, almost dangerously so, and he also saw that all the blood had rushed to her face and to her nether regions. Her fingers would be cold to the touch.
He walked up to her in a slow and very measured way, and she backed up against the wall, pressing herself into the corner. She didn’t draw a weapon. He had been at her place faster than she had expected, hadn’t given her time to gather her things.
She was defenseless.
He let out a deep, elongated growl and grabbed her waist tightly. She tried kicking out at him, but she was too weak from the pursuit to put much power into it.
“Let me go,” she snarled, and Spirits, the ferocity in her voice! His hands slid up and down her waist, talons gripping at the fabric of her tunic and tugging it up to feel at her flesh underneath, pale and taut with muscles.
The way it curved into her hip, how supportive her waist was, it nearly drove him insane.
But he let go of her waist to instead grab her wrists, and he pinned them against the small of her back with one of his hands before he leaned in and let his subvocals thrum, his mandible flicking against her cheek.
“I’m going to savor this,” he whispered and used his free hand to undress her. First went the tunic, then he went for her pants, and it didn’t take long before she was completely naked while he was still fully dressed.
“Going to take my time. I will torture you and not even when you’re begging will I give in. You know how resilient we turians are, don’t you?”
His plates had long since parted to let his cock strain against his pants, and from the way it throbbed and jerked, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. But he would be damned if he wasn’t going to give it his all.
She burst into a laugh - feeble and unsure.
“Please, you’ll last five minutes, top. You’re young, inexperienced. Won’t last long out here.”
His eyes narrowed, and he squeezed her wrists tighter, his talons pressing into her flesh.
“Do you want to bet on that, sweetheart?”
He could hear the breath itch in her throat and allowed himself a triumphant, gleeful smile. Oh, she was so easy. This had been the easiest thing in the world for him.
“Go to Hell,” she cursed, voice once more feeble and shrill, and she kicked out at him again, but he easily dodged the attack.
Instead of deigning her an answer, he slid his free hand towards her cunt and found it dripping wet.
“Go. To. Hell,” she whispered, and it was so close to a whimper that his heart nearly burst. Her entire body was trembling, he could feel it easily, and her hands had clenched into tight fists.
His visor revealed the speed with which her heart beat in her chest, and it became clear to him that she was at least as thrilled by the hunt as he was, even though he had been the one to suggest it. He had been aware he was going out on a limb, just hoped she wouldn’t kick him to the curb after his suggestion.
When her response hadn’t come immediately, like he was so used to, he started regretting it, and he was in the midst of backpedaling when she spoke.
‘Sounds fun.’ And the smile, oh how rarely he had seen such joy, such glee on her face.
“Will you accompany me there?” he all but purred and gingerly stroked his gloved talons between her wet folds. The streetlights didn’t reach in here, but that didn’t bother him - he saw as easily in the darkness as he did in the light, and even if the dark had rendered him blind, he had his visor to help him.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she shivered, a full-body shudder that made him chuckle lowly.
“I think I’m about ready to enjoy my prize,” he murmured and moved his hand away from her cunt - he relished the pathetic whimper that left her lips - to undo his pants. It took a little longer with just one hand, but he managed to get them undone and tug them down around his spurs.
Her scent was overwhelming, sweet and heavy and slightly musky, and Spirits, he couldn’t wait to bury himself in that sweet warmth.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, and it was thrilling to see her obey so easily. Her legs parted, the shoes scooting over the dirty ground, and he could smell her even more, his brain nearly fogging over.
As if drunk, it took him a few tries to find her opening, but when he did, he thrust forward and buried himself to the hilt within her, and they moaned in unison. She felt so good, warm and dripping wet yet tight around his thick cock, and the moan she let out was brittle. On her own accord, she spread her legs wider, and he could press himself harder against her with a low growl.
He towered above her, crowding her against the cold brick wall, and he felt so mighty and powerful. She whimpered when he pulled back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside, and then pushed fully inside again. Her cunt clenched around him, and it took all his willpower to not ram into her and fuck her senseless.
He had promised he would take his time with this, and he fully intended to keep this promise.
He looked down at her, found her head hanging forward against the wall, and grabbed her waist with his free hand. His other was still occupied with keeping her hands pinned against the small of her back - such an easy task.
Squeezing her waist tightly elicited a wanton moan, and he pressed himself harder against her, his carapace against her back and pushing her against the wall.
“Where’s your resistance now, sweetheart?” he murmured against her cheek, mandible flicking against the torn skin that had twisted into thick scars, and started thrusting in earnest.
She didn’t answer.
“You’re so wet and tight,” he continued, voice low and guttural and subvocals thrumming, and as he spoke, her cunt clenched around him, making him utter a quiet, almost embarrassing sound.
“You’re a kinky girl, aren’t you? Your lack of resistance suggests you’re into this, that you like the thrill of the hunt, like being taken by a turian in a dirty alley where anyone could see. Not that anyone would help you, of course; this is Omega, after all.”
As he spoke, he picked up the pace and fucked her harder, faster, deeper, with as much vigor as he could muster without pulling a muscle. She was outright whimpering when he reached the word ‘Omega’, and each thrust forced throaty sounds from her dry, cracked lips.
His thrusts were relentless when she gasped, and her legs tried pressing together. Her cunt convulsed rhythmically around him. She let out a loud, shrill cry as she pushed back against him, desperately grinding against his ridged cock.
“Coming already?” he chuckled and stopped moving. A frustrated scream left her, and she writhed against him as if in the most agonizing pain.
“Save your strength, sweetheart.”
When she stopped spasming around him, and when she sagged against the wall, he started thrusting again, and for each move, she let out a pathetic whimper. Her eyes were closed, heavy lids shielding the most wonderful and perfect green eyes he had ever seen, and her lips were parted, flashing two rows of slightly yellowed teeth.
It didn’t take long before he got close to the edge himself. She felt too damn good, and the sound of skin slapping against skin was pornographic, echoed slightly in the alley, became ingrained in his brain.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he growled, his voice tight and strained, “going to fill you with my seed until you can’t contain it and it will drip down your legs. I’m going to knot you. How does that sound?”
She didn’t answer, simply whimpered and weakly pushed back against him.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes please’.”
His hips started stuttering, and his thrusts became irregular, and it didn’t take long before he came in a series of harsh thrusts and sharp gasps. As he came, the base of his cock started swelling, and she whined quietly, body trembling, as she was stretched.
He felt light and elated, delirious with her scent and her cunt convulsing around him again, and he couldn’t contain his excitement - he bit her shoulder and relished the pained scream that morphed into a sound of total and unadulterated bliss.
He ground against her with his teeth in her shoulder, his cock throbbing as it spurted out streams of cum deep inside her.
They remained tied for the best of fifteen minutes. In the post-coital bliss, they ground against each other and let out quiet whimpers and guttural growls. When he finally retracted his teeth from her shoulder, she sighed and slumped against the wall, only held up by his arm that had snaked around her waist.
“Turn your head.”
She obeyed without a second thought. She opened her eyes to look up at him, and while he often saw such raw and pure love in them, it always took his breath away.
He leaned down to press their mouths together in a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth plates weren’t completely rigid, they could flex and bend slightly, and after he had become confident in his kissing skills, he never wanted to stop kissing her.
When his knot deflated and he pulled out of her, she whimpered softly and closed her eyes again, a sigh rolling past her lips. He pulled his pants back in place.
“Are you ready to go home?”
She nodded weakly, and a small smile lit up her face. He smiled back and gingerly cradled her in his arms, picking up her clothes and covering her body.
As they languidly walked towards his apartment, she spoke.
“That was perfect, Garrus. Everything we talked about.”
He let out a soft, slightly sheepish laugh.
“I’m glad you liked it, Shepard.”