[The shroud helps in more ways than keeping her from seeing him. It keeps him from seeing her as well. He can't see the way her eyes close despite her best efforts as his fingers explore her clit and folds. The touch is thorough and precise (and gloved, and when did that become arousing?) and the only reason Shepard doesn't make any embarrassing noises is because she's bit her lip. It's not her smartest move and she's aware of this. Her teeth will leave marks, and so she releases the lip and takes a slow, careful breath.
Shepard has just finished taking that breath in when Mordin speaks again. She releases it slowly under the theory that relaxing and letting it go would make the finger go in more easily. It might have. Unfortunately the actual penetrating slide of the finger makes her exhale faster, and this time she's not able to hold back the grunt.
Maybe she should attempt to cover for it.]
It's not too cold. Don't worry.
[Her voice is strained even to her own ears, but who wouldn't sound strained when someone was searching their ass for bugs?]
Hell, I've been to Noveria and Alchera. I can take this.
[She seizes onto the thought of it being about what she could take... and immediately regrets it. There's a lot more she could take, and that includes more fingers in other places, and her mind is no stranger to traveling down those roads. Shepard is no stranger to thinking of him like that either. And now she knows what it feels like to have a salarian finger inside her. This is not helping how wet she is, or keeping her toes from flexing in the stirrups.]
[ But at least Mordin is no stranger to intrusive examinations, though this one has been chafing at the edge of his thoughts since he started—try as he might, he can't not notice how warm her body is, how it's all the warmer for her sexual arousal. He wants to ignore it. Wishes he could, but the perfect salarian memory promises that not only will he fail to ignore it, he will think of this again.
Her toes curl. Discomfort, he insists, as he stretches her. Feels along her inner walls, necessarily invasive. This is technical.
This is technical.
(Skin darkening, flushed with blood; labia parted, moisture glistening in the light. Pelvic muscles tight, tense. Gripping. Accommodating him.)
Mordin doesn't think he needs to confirm that he hasn't found anything at this point. He just withdraws, turns, discards and replaces his gloves with a series of elastic noises, and tries valiantly to collect himself. Something is wrong with him. Something so preposterous that he is loath to name it for what it is.
Shepard's voice is low and rough. Something is wrong with him but apparently not wrong enough. Time to move on. ]
Went to Noveria once. Younger years. Pre-STG. Scouted as undergraduate by Noveria Development Corporation, but little interest in working for Binary Helix. Heard they were contracted by krogan to develop genophage cure. [ Sniff. Not quite disdainful, but close. ] Failure not received well.
[ This conversation is a really good distraction from the way Shepard does receive both of his fingers very well—hot and slick, spongy tissues engorged, probably sensitive. He's very... thorough. After a moment he places his free hand over her belly and presses lightly, fingers momentarily probing perhaps a little too deep. Everything feels normal.
[There's the quietest of noises as his fingers leave her, cut off as quickly as she can manage. Even with the gloves on he's so warm, and Shepard can't stop herself from wondering what all he can do with his clever hands. His whole clever self.
Gods, she wants him, and her cheeks are a brilliant red as she acknowledges that. But acknowledging it is the way to move on. Isn't that what her instructors had always said? For a moment when his fingers leave her and he's talking again Shepard thinks she can get a handle on this. It's even a topic she can discuss.]
I--
[And then Shepard, who had never broken off and fumbled for words before, felt her mind go blank at the slide of his fingers back in. Mordin is searching, as he should, and Shepard's heels dig into the stirrups as she tries to hold herself still, to not make any more noises or make this harder on him.
It's a battle she can't win.
The woman who doesn't surrender and doesn't lose finds herself rocking against that deeper finger and shivering at the press to her belly, momentarily lost in Mordin and the way he can touch. Those fingers are long and slender, stretching her just a little, rubbing and searching. Shepard's nearly certain she could come from just a little more of him, but as soon as that thought hits her, so does reality. This is Doctor Solus, who has already turned her down as politely as possible, and while her intent had been honest and above-board, this is beyond wrong to do to him.]
Shit. You even told me that you weren't into... I'm sorry.
[She's just basically used him, and what's worse is how badly she wishes she could continue, how much she wants him to thrust those fingers inside of her again. Her eyes are closed and her face is burning with shame as well as arousal now.]
I'll go. And I'm so sorry.
[And yet she doesn't make a move to go. She can't. His fingers are inside her, and the last thing she should be doing is jostling them.]
[ For a second, thanks to the barrier between them, the only thing Mordin gives Shepard is his silence. Which must be uncomfortable, at best. It's a measured couple beats, though, and even as she's apologizing he's withdrawing his fingers in a manner more practiced than eager. Her response... entirely inappropriate, he knows, probably technical breach of protocol, abuse of authority as commanding officer, but yet—
Idea in itself breach of propriety. Occurs to him, though, that Cerberus command's standards of propriety somewhat looser than Alliance, Union, Council. Shepard's own standards as well (only thing loose about her, too). Had let her down gently before. If wanted to try human, would try you. But maybe shift in parameters. Maybe want to try human. Maybe already is.
His mouth seems to have gone a little dry. He hadn't considered that something as simple as this could be enough for her. It almost strikes him as... doable. Moral gray area, perhaps, but not at all grayer than the things he's done in his life already. Very well. First things first. Elephant in room. He shifts up to look her in the eye, very aware of the holographic wire frame of a speculum currently rendering on his omni-tool's fabricator and making certain she's aware of it as well. ]
Apology unnecessary, Shepard. Arousal during medical procedures... more common than imagined. Don't need to take it as expression of interest if—would prefer I didn't.
Good news, though! No evidence of invasive Cerberus tech. Wise to suggest physical examination, though; can fool scans, spoof readout. No substitute for sight, touch. [ A little smile touches his face, as though charmed by the banality of it. It's like she wasn't just clenching pleasurably around him mere moments ago. ] Traditional approach... sometimes best.
[ But the mini-fabricator's work is finished, and Mordin's gaze flicks swiftly from the speculum's glow to Shepard's face, pulling from all his knowledge of human facial tics to determine whether the suggestion of it has elicited a reaction. ]
Further procedures unnecessary. Exam concluded.
[ A deep inhale. Probably not misreading situation. Still, about to show cards. Risky. ]
No longer your doctor.
[ Which, in context, might actually be the filthiest thing he's ever said to anybody. He continues to reassure himself that this is not the worst breach of medical ethics he's ever committed by far. Also, he's suddenly recognized that he's been feeling... unusual over the past several minutes—unusual in ways that take him back to long-lapsed negotiations with a magnetic young dalatrass, to the sinuous asari dancers Aria T'Loak surrounded herself with in Omega—in response to what he can only posit must be the pheromone-laden scent of her. ]
Still, could [ lifted brow. ] afford some redundancies. [ Minute, sheepish sniff. ] If desired.
[ And there it is. ]
Edited (oh my, my brackets////////) Date: 2014-09-08 08:34 am (UTC)
[He lets her off the hook so easily as if nothing's happened, rush of words saying that everything seems all right. She pulls her feet out of the stirrups, bringing her legs together as if it would fix the line's she's crossed.
This search and his hands on her had been unneeded. Unneeded, and enjoyed at his expense. If not for how calm he is about it Shepard would feel like shit right about now. Calm... and confusing. He'd turned her down. He can't be offering what she thinks he is, except the speculum is still forming and he's just said he's no longer her doctor.
He's offering.
If desired.
Hell yes it's desired, and Shepard's tongue flicks out to moisten suddenly dry lips. She's never slept with a member of her crew before, but they're Cerberus now. Alliance regs don't apply. All that matters is the brilliant, dexterous scientist in front of her. Shepard takes a breath and meets his eyes.]
I hear redundancies are all the rage in scientific circles.
[There's the shortest beat. He's an adult and knows what he wants to do just as much as she does, but she has to check.]
Are you sure about this? Your answer several days back wasn't anything along these lines. Not that I'm complaining about the change of mind.
[She wants to know he's not feeling pressured or like his CO is expecting this of him. Her body wants her to shut up. Shepard makes a habit of ignoring signs from her body, weariness, minor pain, aches, but this time she doesn't. Her feet go back into the stirrups in blatant and shameless invitation in case he's certain.]
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2014-06-29 03:56 am (UTC)Shepard has just finished taking that breath in when Mordin speaks again. She releases it slowly under the theory that relaxing and letting it go would make the finger go in more easily. It might have. Unfortunately the actual penetrating slide of the finger makes her exhale faster, and this time she's not able to hold back the grunt.
Maybe she should attempt to cover for it.]
It's not too cold. Don't worry.
[Her voice is strained even to her own ears, but who wouldn't sound strained when someone was searching their ass for bugs?]
Hell, I've been to Noveria and Alchera. I can take this.
[She seizes onto the thought of it being about what she could take... and immediately regrets it. There's a lot more she could take, and that includes more fingers in other places, and her mind is no stranger to traveling down those roads. Shepard is no stranger to thinking of him like that either. And now she knows what it feels like to have a salarian finger inside her. This is not helping how wet she is, or keeping her toes from flexing in the stirrups.]
no subject
Date: 2014-07-09 06:51 am (UTC)Her toes curl. Discomfort, he insists, as he stretches her. Feels along her inner walls, necessarily invasive. This is technical.
This is technical.
(Skin darkening, flushed with blood; labia parted, moisture glistening in the light. Pelvic muscles tight, tense. Gripping. Accommodating him.)
Mordin doesn't think he needs to confirm that he hasn't found anything at this point. He just withdraws, turns, discards and replaces his gloves with a series of elastic noises, and tries valiantly to collect himself. Something is wrong with him. Something so preposterous that he is loath to name it for what it is.
Shepard's voice is low and rough. Something is wrong with him but apparently not wrong enough. Time to move on. ]
Went to Noveria once. Younger years. Pre-STG. Scouted as undergraduate by Noveria Development Corporation, but little interest in working for Binary Helix. Heard they were contracted by krogan to develop genophage cure. [ Sniff. Not quite disdainful, but close. ] Failure not received well.
[ This conversation is a really good distraction from the way Shepard does receive both of his fingers very well—hot and slick, spongy tissues engorged, probably sensitive. He's very... thorough. After a moment he places his free hand over her belly and presses lightly, fingers momentarily probing perhaps a little too deep. Everything feels normal.
Of course it does. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-07-18 10:28 pm (UTC)Gods, she wants him, and her cheeks are a brilliant red as she acknowledges that. But acknowledging it is the way to move on. Isn't that what her instructors had always said? For a moment when his fingers leave her and he's talking again Shepard thinks she can get a handle on this. It's even a topic she can discuss.]
I--
[And then Shepard, who had never broken off and fumbled for words before, felt her mind go blank at the slide of his fingers back in. Mordin is searching, as he should, and Shepard's heels dig into the stirrups as she tries to hold herself still, to not make any more noises or make this harder on him.
It's a battle she can't win.
The woman who doesn't surrender and doesn't lose finds herself rocking against that deeper finger and shivering at the press to her belly, momentarily lost in Mordin and the way he can touch. Those fingers are long and slender, stretching her just a little, rubbing and searching. Shepard's nearly certain she could come from just a little more of him, but as soon as that thought hits her, so does reality. This is Doctor Solus, who has already turned her down as politely as possible, and while her intent had been honest and above-board, this is beyond wrong to do to him.]
Shit. You even told me that you weren't into... I'm sorry.
[She's just basically used him, and what's worse is how badly she wishes she could continue, how much she wants him to thrust those fingers inside of her again. Her eyes are closed and her face is burning with shame as well as arousal now.]
I'll go. And I'm so sorry.
[And yet she doesn't make a move to go. She can't. His fingers are inside her, and the last thing she should be doing is jostling them.]
no subject
Date: 2014-09-08 08:34 am (UTC)Idea in itself breach of propriety. Occurs to him, though, that Cerberus command's standards of propriety somewhat looser than Alliance, Union, Council. Shepard's own standards as well (only thing loose about her, too). Had let her down gently before. If wanted to try human, would try you. But maybe shift in parameters. Maybe want to try human. Maybe already is.
His mouth seems to have gone a little dry. He hadn't considered that something as simple as this could be enough for her. It almost strikes him as... doable. Moral gray area, perhaps, but not at all grayer than the things he's done in his life already. Very well. First things first. Elephant in room. He shifts up to look her in the eye, very aware of the holographic wire frame of a speculum currently rendering on his omni-tool's fabricator and making certain she's aware of it as well. ]
Apology unnecessary, Shepard. Arousal during medical procedures... more common than imagined. Don't need to take it as expression of interest if—would prefer I didn't.
Good news, though! No evidence of invasive Cerberus tech. Wise to suggest physical examination, though; can fool scans, spoof readout. No substitute for sight, touch. [ A little smile touches his face, as though charmed by the banality of it. It's like she wasn't just clenching pleasurably around him mere moments ago. ] Traditional approach... sometimes best.
[ But the mini-fabricator's work is finished, and Mordin's gaze flicks swiftly from the speculum's glow to Shepard's face, pulling from all his knowledge of human facial tics to determine whether the suggestion of it has elicited a reaction. ]
Further procedures unnecessary. Exam concluded.
[ A deep inhale. Probably not misreading situation. Still, about to show cards. Risky. ]
No longer your doctor.
[ Which, in context, might actually be the filthiest thing he's ever said to anybody. He continues to reassure himself that this is not the worst breach of medical ethics he's ever committed by far. Also, he's suddenly recognized that he's been feeling... unusual over the past several minutes—unusual in ways that take him back to long-lapsed negotiations with a magnetic young dalatrass, to the sinuous asari dancers Aria T'Loak surrounded herself with in Omega—in response to what he can only posit must be the pheromone-laden scent of her. ]
Still, could [ lifted brow. ] afford some redundancies. [ Minute, sheepish sniff. ] If desired.
[ And there it is. ]
no subject
Date: 2015-09-10 07:04 am (UTC)This search and his hands on her had been unneeded. Unneeded, and enjoyed at his expense. If not for how calm he is about it Shepard would feel like shit right about now. Calm... and confusing. He'd turned her down. He can't be offering what she thinks he is, except the speculum is still forming and he's just said he's no longer her doctor.
He's offering.
If desired.
Hell yes it's desired, and Shepard's tongue flicks out to moisten suddenly dry lips. She's never slept with a member of her crew before, but they're Cerberus now. Alliance regs don't apply. All that matters is the brilliant, dexterous scientist in front of her. Shepard takes a breath and meets his eyes.]
I hear redundancies are all the rage in scientific circles.
[There's the shortest beat. He's an adult and knows what he wants to do just as much as she does, but she has to check.]
Are you sure about this? Your answer several days back wasn't anything along these lines. Not that I'm complaining about the change of mind.
[She wants to know he's not feeling pressured or like his CO is expecting this of him. Her body wants her to shut up. Shepard makes a habit of ignoring signs from her body, weariness, minor pain, aches, but this time she doesn't. Her feet go back into the stirrups in blatant and shameless invitation in case he's certain.]