only_one_rule | Aria/Jackson rendezvous

Aria/Jackson rendezvous

The room had probably been a supply closet at some point; certainly its size and shape seemed to suggest that, as did the heavy shelves that had been bolted to the walls, though they were devoid of anything by the time they had discovered it not far from the living quarters and the barricade they had set up against roving monsters. It added a little thrill to the proceedings to know they were beyond the 'safe zone' and more than once had necessitated a quick retreat when the halls were too full of foes.

Aria slipped into the room to find Jackson already there, just as she had known he would be. She allowed another sly smile as she spotted him, though she turned her attention towards using her biotics to shove the remaining shelf up against the door before greeting him properly. Only once the heavy shelving was firmly in place did she turn, sauntering towards where he waited. "Well now, where were we? Planning an invasion, I believe..."

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"Yes, ma'am," he told her, the same humor in his voice as was quirking his lips up into a smile. He stood and kicked off his shoes, dropping his pants and stepping out of them and towards Aria. There might have once been a lick of modesty in him, but it had been gone long before he'd woken up on the station; he was just as much at ease naked as he would have been clothed, although her nudity certainly made a difference. He reached for her the moment he was close enough, pulling her in for a kiss.

Aria drew her fingers over Jackson's skin, allowing just enough biotic charge to escape for an electric thrill to follow the path of her fingers, a favourite trick that she had surprised him with long ago. She hated the way the nanites dampened her powers - it made her feel weak and vulnerable - but at least she still had them. Getting a hold of one of the doctors who could reverse the effects would be a priority, once they had control of downstairs.

The electricity made Jackson smile into the kiss, briefly, before he gently bit at her lower lip. "So what'll it be, darlin'?" he asked her, his drawl worse in such moments for the thickness of his arousal. His hands traveled down, then up her sides, one of them finding a breast, thumb brushing over a nipple. "What're you in the mood for, today?"

He did so love giving her exactly what she wanted, without the sort of submission others might work into such an arrangement. No, he gave her what she wanted because he decided to, not because he gave himself over to her. That had never been his style, but even if it had been, this was not a place for that sort of perversion. It was much too dangerous.

His answer was a bruising kiss, her entire body arching against his. "I want it hard," she muttered, revelling in the flush that came of speaking one's desires aloud, "against the wall. For the first, at least."

"I really like the way you think," Jackson told her with a brief smile. Hard meant facing the wall, so he roughly spun her about - roughly, the way he wouldn't have if he didn't know it was exactly what she wanted.

For the first, at least.

Roughly, he pushed inside her, burying himself with a contented groan he did nothing to hide (why would he). His hands stroked over her back, until each found a good enough grip that he could give her exactly what she had asked for: hard.

The wall was cold and slightly gritty, his skin hot and slick against her own. It didn't take long for her pleasure to build, primed as she was with discussion of carnage and the work of his clever fingers. She had no romantic notions of climaxing together and so she held nothing back as she came, her skin flaring electric blue as she cried out and shuddered against him.

This was still one of the most amazing sights Jackson had ever seen, that flare that left no doubt as to whether or not she'd climaxed, in case the sounds she made might have. He kept on, relentless, all through her orgasm, to draw it out for her, thinking of the beast they'd killed two nights past in order to hold off what would otherwise have been inevitable. This was just the first, and he had no intention of having to wait until he could rise to the occasion again for the second, even if the lack of readily available alcohol meant that his refractory period had diminished. Thank God for small favors, he supposed.

Aria murmured something, her ability to concentrate somewhat muzzy for the aftershocks still running over her limbs and through her body. "The bed," she clarified a few seconds later, when she felt steady enough to stand without his support. "On your back."

"It's like you read my mind," he told her, smile audible in his voice, but he took the time to kiss her shoulder before he pulled back, and moved, having no doubt that she would be right behind him. Less that she read his mind, more that they knew each other more than well enough by now.

On the old mattress, on his back, pillowing a hand under his head as he watched her, happily, his second hand wandering down to stroke himself, lightly, almost absent-mindedly; his attention was too focused on her.

She turned, and there was no doubt she knew she was being watched and admired, making the most of the short journey across to where he lay. Jackson was such a good soldier, quick to follow orders with a smile on his face, and not for the first time Aria counted herself lucky that he was here though of course she had never told him as much.

"I've told you before, asari don't have telepathy," she teased him, throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself slowly to straddle him. "And it's just as well, I don't think I want to know what's truly going on in that brain of yours..."

He held himself up as she came down, smile twitching up his lips under his moustache. "You'd love -" a sharp intake of breath as she clenched around him - "you'd love what's truly goin' on in that brain o' mine," he finished protesting, still smiling around his words. How could he not? Here she was, goddamn gorgeous on top of him - and then she rocked her hips, and he groaned, fingers curling on her thigh.

"Maybe at the moment," she allowed, settling into an excruciatingly slow rhythm as a smile curved her lips. It wasn't the same as running a space station, but this was power all the same and she relished it, the way she could elicit gasps and groans from him with just a shift of her hips.

"Definitely at the moment," Jackson assured her, and made no more effort than usual to hide the effect she had on him. Aria would get all the gasps and groans she wanted, and he would enjoy it just as much as she did, a hand still under his head, his other one lazily exploring her skin, the harder lines of her muscles, the softer curves of her breasts.

But there was only so much a man could take, and that need for a little more, for something a little faster, a little stronger, seeped tension into his frame little by little. "C'mon, darlin', gimme a little somethin' more, here," he requested in a lazy drawl, shifting his hips in time with hers.

At this request Aria's smile turned wicked and she made no move to speed her movements. "Something more of what?" she asked, trailing her hands down his chest and stomach, biotic sparks stinging his skin.

Jackson hissed quietly, but the sparks walked that fine line between pain and pleasure, and he only bucked his hips a little harder, before he smiled again, up at her, loving the shade of her own smile. That shade of wickedness. "Somethin' more of you," he replied, moving both of his hands to her hips and changing the pace of his, not by much, but enough to make a difference.

Jackson might have been strong enough to force her to join his pace, but he didn't, leaving her to move against him in a jarring mismatch of rhythms that threatened to throw them both out of the 'mood'. "Do you always expect to get what you want just by asking nicely?" she asked, her expression turning daring as she waited to see what he would do.

"I like to give people the option of just givin' me what I want," he replied, holding her gaze for a second or three. And then he rolled them both so he wound up on top, and suddenly deeper inside her than their previous position had allowed. "Sweet Mary mother of Christ, you feel amazin', darlin'."

Aria chuckled, wrapping her legs around his hips to draw him even closer. "I don't know who that is, but pass on my regards," she said, sucking in a breath as he began to thrust against her. "And tell her you're not half bad yourself." Strong praise, from her.

"I'll make sure - to let her know." Jackson had absolutely no trouble with blasphemy, even less so in moments like these. They set up a steady rhythm that gradually picked up pace, and he quickly enough balanced himself on one arm to slide his other hand between their bodies. With how long she'd been teasing him, he knew he wasn't going to last, and he'd be damned if he didn't make her come again first.

Sure enough his ministrations soon had their desired effect and he saw the blue light begin to creep across her skin, her laboured breath catching in her throat as she neared the edge. Her hands bunched the thin mattress beneath them as she stiffened, head thrown back, silent this time as she tipped over the edge.

And it wasn't a minute too soon, because Jackson had been running right out of ugly beasties to picture. He pulled his hand back to lean on both his arms again, and drove into her harder than before, and stronger, licking the odd-tasting sweat from her neck before his own orgasm stole over him, hips stuttering for a few amazing seconds before they stilled. He kept his face buried against her neck as he caught his breath, but eventually pulled back to flop down beside her, half off of the mattress, given how narrow it was. "I love slow days," he stated, with feeling.

Aria stirred beside him, turning onto her side and rearranging her still-trembling limbs, her dark eyes slitted like some great cat. "I recall you saying the same thing about fast days not long ago," she replied, her voice hoarse and amused.

Jackson cracked one eye open to look at her, a faint smile on his lips, that grew more amused, in a very fond way, at the sight of her, and he reached out to bring her close, plant a kiss on those lips. "Yeah, that sounds about right," he confirmed, before checking where his rifle was at - still in the same spot, easily reachable from the mattress, perfect.

She pushed herself up on one arm, then, her other hand snaking its way across his waist in a studiously casual way. Aria wasn't a cuddler, Jackson knew, and the times when she deigned to stay in their little room after their fucking had finished were few and far between.

"I'd send you," she commented, looking down at him thoughtfully then. "Downstairs."

The surprise on his features wasn't feigned as he looked back at her, before thoughtfulness took over. He was silent for a few seconds, pillowing a hand under his head once again, fingers of his otherhand tracing meaningless shapes on the back of hers. It was rare for her to indulge in a moment like this one, but he knew better than to remark upon it. There was only one thing to do: enjoy it.

He could've greeted her words with many an offhand joke, but he was thinking her words over instead, because she brought that out in him. Made him think about things twice. Her mind was such a sharp thing that it was only too respectful.

"Why?" he finally settled on, simply. He wasn't fishing for compliments about being capable. He was asking for her reasoning.

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