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Sara Ryder can’t describe the feeling that takes hold of her heart when she stands at the bridge of the Tempest, watching stars and planets and asteroids fly by. When she stares deep into the abyss of the black hole at Andromeda’s center, when she admires the colors of a gas giant offset by three moons in different shapes and sizes. It’s as if there is this large hole inside of her, her own event horizon that burns hotter than anything ever burned – a hole in her soul, carved out by space and life and the loss of her dad, brimming with energy and power.
She can’t explain it, and she’s unsure if anyone else feels this way. If Kallo stares out across the stars, with his memory clearer than a shallow pond, and if his heart aches for mysteries untold. If Suvi’s pulse jumps and leaps just by the mere prospect of space exploration, of pathfinding – if Cora thinks she recognizes herself in the next unfurling nebula in their path.
SAM has already told her that it’s nothing like Alec Ryder ever felt; that it doesn’t come close to any kind of experience he was allowed to monitor through a human being’s senses and brain waves. He’d advised her to enjoy it, to experience it to the fullest – but he doesn’t know what to make of it, either. It’s like it opens the floodgates to something greater than Sara herself, and she can tap into all that power and beauty without a second thought. They’re so intertwined at this point that some things can be left unsaid between them. It’s not like you can share your mind with just anyone.
And then there’s Jaal, who somehow evokes the same in her; the shine of his blue eyes reflecting thousands of stars from systems Sara hasn’t even seen before, and the corners of his mouth hiding unknown corners of the universe whenever he smiles. The angara believe in reincarnation, and Sara’s seen firsthand what it can do – sometimes she wonders if it’s that. If she senses something in Jaal that’s older than he is, and something that she knew before. Before she came here, and before she started following in her father’s footsteps. But that’s not really possible, is it – she’s just a human woman from the Milky Way.
SAM asks her once, when she is relaxing in her cabin. “Sara,” he says, tone inquisitive, “what does the title ‘Pathfinder’ mean to you, personally? I know what it meant to Alec, but we have not spoken about it.”
And Sara frowns, reaching deep inside her; she doesn’t know when she got so used to it, when it turned from a silly, almost mocking title into something genuine. She thinks of what she’s done so far – of the colonies she’s built, of the monoliths she’s activated, of the kett she’s fought. It’s easy to retrace all of her steps back to the beginning, when her father transferred SAM to her mind and died in her stead.
“It’s become part of my identity,” she answers, slowly and measured, staring at her palms. “It’s… deeply ingrained. I don’t see it as some sort of Initiative rank or role anymore, but rather the biggest key point that defines me. It’s…”
SAM stays silent. “… everything to you, is it not?”
Sara nods, and they don’t really speak of it again, but something has shifted. SAM’s attitude has changed; Sara feels his presence in her brain somehow, through the implant. Though he always considered himself as a conscious AI, he always considered himself in service of the Initiative; and that day, it stops. That day, he takes into himself what a Pathfinder means to him, and it’s not about service to something as simple and straight-forward as the people on the Nexus.
It’s a living, breathing ideal to always keep chasing that new horizon, and to walk paths yet undiscovered. To create them, even. To make them scalable for the ones coming after; to lead the way, and to never give up. To always look for improvement, for a new home, for development.
Both SAM and she breathe more easily after that, and it also becomes easier to ignore Director Tann’s meddling at times. They're part of something bigger now; part of a team.
And how precious all of their new friends on the team are – Liam, with his temper and his jokes and his heart of gold; Cora, dependable and strong; Vetra, kind-natured and taking care of everyone as best as she can; Gil, with his psychological insight and his deflecting humor; Lexi, with her inquisitive mind and deadpan comments; Peebee, with her adventurous spirit and bluntness; Drack, the grizzled old warrior who wants nothing else than to play dad over a bunch of kids; Suvi, whose faith furthers her development as a scientist; Kallo, with his sharp wit and his connectedness to everyone on the Tempest.
And again, there’s Jaal, always him – whose emotions are as big as his broad-shouldered presence, who weeps and laughs and prays amongst the rest of them. Whose eyes keep beckoning Sara in like distant galaxies waiting to be explored; whose hands somehow seem to look better with hers in them. It’s like a gravity well stretched between them, the ties of a biotic singularity field pulled taut – her heart and soul fly over to him so easily, as if it’s exactly where she belongs.
SAM revels in the feeling, having only had experience with Alec’s feelings for Sara’s mom – an established relationship of many years, including kids and a family, eventually torn apart by disease. And this is something new and growing which feels familiar at the same time, and he’s enjoying the show as much as some of the crew members are. Sara, meanwhile, feels both joyful and a little embarrassed.
She takes Jaal with her everywhere, unashamed, and the angara follows without question. They talk about differences between their languages and expression, and Jaal clicks especially well with Liam. They speak about their futures, about their families, about their lost history. And then, eventually, Jaal asks her to meet his family.
Sara knows by now that family is a big thing to the angara, who all grow up in a big community consisting of a large number of family members – one true mother and father surrounded by several others, as well as siblings, cousins, and adopted riffraff. Anyone without a roof over their head. It’s close-quarters and more than cozy, and they hug and punch every emotion right out of their chests.
It’s more than a little intimidating, and it’s also very much a painful reminder of everything that Sara has lost – the void where she keeps the memories of mom and dad and where Scott is now too, still asleep, still not woken.
But then Jaal’s mother Sahuna, who is in the angaran Resistance, greats her with warm hugs, and Jaal’s siblings walk up to her and clasp their hands on her shoulders. They smile at her and ask her questions like it’s the most casual thing in the world – their big brother and/or cousin bringing an alien with an AI inside of her head home like a best friend. Sara doesn’t feel out of place for a minute; isn’t conscious of the fact that she’s an alien at all, even though she’s asked about human habits and the original human world she came from.
She’s falling for all of them almost as hard as she is falling for Jaal, the family bonds of friendship and blood and sweat and tears uniting them into one network of light; connecting their hearts and minds. She briefly ponders asking SAM if he’s seeing this, if he’s feeling this, and if she might be going crazy after all – but then decides against it. It doesn’t matter.
He’s seeing it, and on some level, it’s real.
They retreat, moving to Jaal’s room, sitting down on the bed. She feels comfortable, happy, at home, and then there’s a moment where she almost drowns in his presence. His eyes, honest and blue and black and big, are suddenly the focal point of her entire universe.
“You make my heart sing,” he says, voice deep and sincere, a slight fear of rejection in his eyes. But he pushes onward nonetheless, and Sara’s heart is doing backflips in her chest. “I want us to be together,” he adds, the words coming on quick, taking her hands in his.
The question hangs unspoken between them, and Sara feels her body sing back in response. “Yeah,” she breathes out, barely able to control her voice, “I’d like that.”
Jaal lights up, face and posture suddenly at ease, and starts laughing happily. “Yes!” he exclaims, obviously happy with her answer, before looking at her with an eager sort of shyness. She laughs along with him, of course, because how could she not – this amazing man, this bulwark of muscle and emotion, this man who’s been there for her ever since they met.
And then there’s a quietness, Jaal leaning forward and his face turning serious again. He reaches out with a reverent sort of certainty, palm coming up to cup the side of her head. His fingers tickle at her hair, and his gaze is intense. “I adore you,” he says quietly, and then they’re both leaning in.
Apparently, angaran kisses are much like human ones.
Jaal’s mouth is warm and gentle against hers, a weird sort of electric undercurrent through where their lips meet – angaran bioelectricity, no doubt. His lips move over hers with ease, keeping it light and chaste, but the feeling behind it is just as intense as his eyes are. When he pulls back, he leans his forehead briefly against hers, and then he’s pulling her gently off the bed.
One more thing to show her, he says.
As they lie below the galaxy he built when he was younger and hold hands, Sara knows she will never love another person the way she loves him ever again. It’s frightening, it’s exhilarating, and somehow it opens her heart and mind and entire being even more to the universe than before. I love you, is all she can think as she stares into his eyes, by the gods, I love you so much.
And then, later, he takes her to his favorite spot on Aya – hands clasped in front on of her eyes, he leads her to the water, so obviously pleased with his surprise and so eager to make her feel cherished and loved. His sweet smile, his warm bulk behind her with his arms wrapped around her; it overwhelms Sara to such a degree that she can almost feel SAM’s alarms going off, and then Jaal turns her and takes one of her hands in his, pressing it to his chest.
Both SAM and Sara almost stop functioning entirely, purely focused on the physical sensations.
“Beyond all reason,” Jaal says, head tilted slightly to the side and his expression vulnerable, “I have fallen in love with you.” His grasp on her hand turns tighter, both of his now clasped over hers. “And I want,” he stammers, not finishing, “… do you… want to…?”
One hand now between them, palm open and outstretched. A question. An invitation.
Sara feels the heat creep up her body, realizing what he means. They haven’t gone there – they’ve had some stolen kisses in the tech lab or in the Nomad, arms wrapped tight around each other, her falling asleep on his shoulder during a few lonely nights. All of it chaste and innocent. All of it sweet.
She hasn’t even read up on all of Lexi’s biological reports and theses on the angara; doesn’t even know what he’d like, what angaran erogenous zones are, if they’re even fully compatible like that. Though she’s seen Jaal shirtless and partially naked thanks to Liam’s odd attempts at interspecies diplomacy, she doesn’t know what to touch. Where to touch.
But he doesn’t know either, she’s guessing – and he’s choosing to take the leap anyway.
So she squeezes his hand back, feeling Aya’s sun kiss her cheeks, and smiles. Throws worry and uncertainty out of the window. “Yeah,” she smiles, leaning in. “I’d like that.”
His expression grows into one of quiet reverence; serious, even regal. “Come with me into the water,” he says, turning away towards the lake, and it honestly surprises Sara. She’d expected them to kiss and go back to Aya’s city, but then Jaal is turning around and stripping himself of his armor.
He’s completely naked within mere seconds, and all Sara can do is gasp out: “Oh.”
His bare back is a sight to behold; broad, sculpted lean lines of muscle and bone at play under a warmly pink-and-white skin. His back tapers into a narrow waist, hipbones jutting to the sides and back invitingly. It’s alien and familiar all in one, but definitely attractive no matter from which angle you view him – and then he’s walking into the lake while she stammers out a weak “Really?”, watching how his muscles glide and move underneath his skin.
He partially turns then, up onto his hips into the water – the elongated shapes at the sides of his head curling into his shoulders and chest, obviously part of his skeletal structure, creating a chestpiece that’s both foreign and mesmerizing. His abdomen is flat and lean, his pelvis tilted slightly forward.
And then Jaal stretches an arm out to her in invitation, palm and fingers out.
“Okay,” is all Sara can say, a dumb smile still on her face, and she starts tugging at her own clothes. Jaal waits patiently, arm outstretched the entire time, his expression almost unreadable – but then she notices his eyes flicking up and down her form, and his interest is more than obvious.
She takes his hand next, walking forward as naked as the day she was born; the water is pleasantly warm against her legs, soothing and friendly. He guides her gently around him as if they are dancing in the water – as if this could get any more romantic than it already is. She feels a little coy, being so intensely watched like this and being treated as some sort of queen, but then Jaal speaks up again and breaks her out of her reverie.
“You are more lovely than anyone I have ever known,” he says, both her hands in his now, “in body, and in spirit.” They’re still spinning in slow little circles in the water, and Sara can’t stop smiling, no matter what she does.
“Wherever you go,” he continues, almost solemnly, “take me with you.”
She stops the movement, trying to channel everything she feels for him – the love and admiration bursting in her chest could surely fill galaxies and make black holes collapse – into her gaze. “I love you, too, Jaal,” she smiles.
And then one of his arms is gathering her closer to him, and she’s leaning up to touch his cheek, and the smile that breaks through Jaal’s solemn expression is like the sun rising on Eos. He lifts her in his arms then, unexpected and sudden, and she can’t help but giggle and laugh without worry as he spins her in wide circles through the water.
Already, their togetherness is filled with joy and honesty and humor, and Sara can’t help but be glad that angara are such an open and expressive species. She’s leaning on his shoulders now and he has her by the waist, pressed tight against him; the circles slow, the laughter dies down, and then he’s slowly sliding her down his body until their faces are at the same height.
His large blue eyes flick over her face; from her eyes to her mouth and back, and she tightens her arms around the thick muscles that make up his shoulders and neck, flickering her fingers over the back of his head. The slide between their bodies is warm, wet, and Sara feels her nipples tighten against the firmness of his chest.
“Ah, Jaal,” she whispers quietly, “please.”
Jaal makes a desperate little noise in his throat, cupping her face with one hand while keeping her lifted against him with the other, and finally leans in to kiss her. Like everything with Jaal, it seems slow and thoughtful and careful, but this time there’s an intensity behind it that Sara hasn’t felt from him before. His lips move sensuously alongside hers, tongue barely dipping into her mouth; again and again until she’s feeling a bit on edge and desperate.
So she wraps her legs around his narrow waist to give herself some leverage, and starts kissing him in earnest; deep, thorough, chasing the electricity under his tongue with vigor. She feels more than hears his surprised gasp – it rumbles through his throat and the roof of his mouth and his arms tighten around her, pressing her even closer. She runs her hands over his head; with a human, she might run them through his hair, but now she settles for slipping her fingers along all those edges and folds that seem so sensitive.
Going by the moan he releases rather beautifully against the side of her neck, they are.
“Let’s lie down,” she suggests in-between kisses and gasps for breath, “I want to – let’s just – ”
He presses his forehead against hers, nodding. “Yes,” is all he says, “yes.”
They move towards the shore, hand-in-hand against the setting sun, and the warmth of Aya and Jaal’s body in such close proximity prickles Sara’s skin. There’s no laughter and giggles now, but only the sort of urgency that comes with want and love. Jaal has her outstretched under him in seconds, settling comfortably between her thighs, abdomen pressed snugly against hers – and that shoots a sharp spike of lust right to the pit of her stomach. He’s there, big and large and looming, and all he wants is to show her the stars.
His arms bracketed around her head, his face hovering inches from hers; his blue eyes hungry yet still reverent as he looks upon her. She can feel his body heat radiating down upon her – or maybe that’s the bioelectricity. The purple-bluish vents in the folds of his head are glowing a bit in the low light of the sun.
And then he’s kissing her again, more passionately than before, mimicking her own style of earlier. She curls her hands around his biceps, noticing how he’s partially keeping his weight off of her but she wants it on her, wants his whole delicious body tight against hers.
“Please, Jaal,” she begs, and he hasn’t even touched her yet but she feels on fire, burning up completely, the heat between her legs slick and distracting.
“Dearest,” he moans back, sliding down, tongue flicking the spot below her ear. “Temptress. You are…” he pauses, sucking at the base of her throat, “exquisite.”
Sara doesn’t even have time to start contemplating the many differences between them; the way his chest sticks out towards her breasts, the way his hands feel so different and cover so much skin in one go, the way his tongue is slightly raspier (and shorter?) than a human’s… She simply feels connected like she does with SAM, completely in the now without any extra effort, and all their bodies seem to want is to be part of one whole.
Jaal starts his descent, one sloppy, sensual kiss after another – down her throat, over her chest and between her breasts, and over the slope of her stomach towards her hips. She holds on to the parts of him that she can reach; his chest, then his shoulders, then his neck, and then…
She makes a surprised little noise that tapers off into a moan when she realizes where he’s heading with a steadfast conviction that seems so inherent to Jaal’s personality. Her fingers glide over the dome of his head while he kisses down her belly, her thighs already angling open, legs bent at the knee. He slides out of the eager grasp of her fingers and she throws them over her head instead.
Jaal reaches his destination, forehead pressed against her mound, nosing gently between her folds, his hands flat on the ground on either side of her legs. He presses her open just using his nose and lips, nudging the soft curls and slick flesh out of the way until he can lap at her center. His first lick is quiet, tentative almost; just below her clit and Sara almost cries in frustration, arching her back and pushing her hips up.
She feels him smile against her and press his head closer; he settles fully on his belly, arms coming up to hug her thighs. He listens, too, to the needy noises she’s making and the way she angles her pelvis forward to his mouth, and Jaal’s tongue pressed tight against her clit has to be one of the best things she’s ever experienced. He flicks the tip of his raspy tongue against it before twisting the little nub between his lips, and Sara’s legs are trembling heavily against his hands.
She sighs, long and deep, throwing her head back with one arm over her eyes, closed against the twilight sky. He’s devouring her, mouth and tongue everywhere at once, yet always coming back to her clit – a steady rhythm interrupted only by a brief dip of his tongue into her, or a gentle bite of his teeth against her outer folds. She’s never been quite this wet; feels how she slicks his chin, his mouth, with her juices, but Jaal doesn’t seem to care. His arms and hands are steady on her legs, and the pleased noises he’s making while flicking his tongue over her rumble right through to her core.
Sara can already feel a telltale build-up somewhere deep inside her belly; a flame slowly coming to life, because Jaal knows like no other how to stay steady, how to keep a rhythm. She whispers his name, moans it, and then suddenly one of his arms is moving, fingers fluttering over the inside of her thigh. His mouth shifts, closing gently over her clit again, and then there’s pressure against her entrance –
“Oh great gods above,” Sara mumbles, because his fingers are thick and large, much more than human ones, and their natural position is a bit more crooked and curved at the third knuckle as well. He’s pressing only one against her – the others that are sort of fused together at once would still be a bit much – and Sara finds herself pushing back at him instantly, almost begging him to push it in.
And he does, all the while sucking at her clit, and his finger slides in so easily it’s almost a dream. She can’t quite believe it, and neither can Jaal, who halts briefly in lavishing his attention on her clit. The noise he makes is one of wonder and fascination, pushing his finger further still, probably in awe of how deep it can actually go. And then he stops, finger seated comfortably; she feels the press of his palm against her, below his mouth. The curve of the thick digit pushes exactly against her sweet spot like this, and Sara lets out a sob as Jaal moves it experimentally. Almost an eddying, a gentle back and forth.
Exquisite indeed, she thinks, hips meeting the thrusts of his hands; she pushes back a little harder, a little faster, trying to get across that she wants it at a higher pace. And Jaal, of course, obliges without question – the next lick at her clit is faster, more prolonged with a hint of teeth, and his finger moves quicker, more thorough, gliding against her inner walls. She cries out when he presses the tip of his finger deeper into her, right against her sweet spot, tilting her hips up desperately; so he does it again and again, and Sara feels so full that she’s ready to burst.
“Jaal,” she breathes, “I’m close. I’m so close. I’m gonna – ”
He doesn’t lift his mouth off of her to speak, but instead sucks harder, finger pushing more insistently, and Sara opens her eyes to look at him. It’s absolutely glorious, to see him at work so reverently between her thighs, but he’s also glowing – a light purple and pink from the folds on his head, and she’s staring at him in awe and wonder while he increases the already rough pace of his hand, wrist rocking steadily against her.
And then, as if he knows, he opens his eyes and looks up to her. Those large blue eyes with entire galaxies reflected into him, looking up to her with love and adoration and something that seems to tell her to let go – and Sara throws her head back for a second time that night, back arching, and shatters.
She cries his name into the night sky, feels herself clench around him rhythmically, the heat of his mouth and tongue on her clit and the steady press of his finger so satisfying that she keeps herself going – and falls a second time, fingers clenched into fists, very shortly after the first. Litanies of love and ‘please’ fall from her lips as she slowly comes down from her high, her hips easing down.
He stops, gently withdrawing his finger, and then he’s climbing back up her body again. Sara feels like she just ran a marathon even though he did all the work; chest heaving, sweat building up at her temples, her body deeply and satisfyingly spent. She’s wearing the stupidest smile ever on her face, and Jaal looks amused when his face comes back up into her field of vision again.
She touches his cheek, and he wipes the wet off his chin and mouth with his arm. “Well, fuck,” she says, grinning. “That was… gods, that was probably the best I’ve ever had. You’re really good at that.”
He smiles and kisses her palm. “I live to please. So I am correct in assuming you reached your peak?”
Sara can’t keep the grin of her face and kisses him; there’s still the lingering taste of herself on his lips. “Twice, actually,” she laughs, “in quick succession. Another first.”
He looks insanely proud at that, much like when he saw how pleased she was with coming here to the lake, and presses his forehead to her in response. “I… I feel so powerful and loved when I am with you, Sara.”
She nuzzles back at him, moving her arms up to cradle the back of his head. “I do too, Jaal,” she says quietly.
They stay like that for a little while, heads resting against each other, stealing kisses. But Jaal is still glowing, still above her, his hips almost slotted between hers, so Sara leans back and smiles up to him.
“Enough recovery,” she says. “What can I do for you?”
Jaal’s skin turns a more purple shade than before in the twilight, and she realizes he’s blushing. “This is enough,” he says, gesturing between them. “I wanted to…”
She presses a finger to his lips. “Jaal. I want to do more – I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.” She raises an eyebrow, grinning. “But you really seemed to know what you were doing. I literally have no idea, so... show me? Tell me what you want?”
He buries his face in her neck briefly, and then looks back up at her again, blue eyes large and wanting. “I want nothing more than to lose myself completely in the warmth between your thighs,” he says, voice low, and it makes Sara twitch again, a simple clench and release inside of her.
She’s slowly starting to understand that Jaal’s serious and solemn voice means that he’s putting himself up for her judgment. Waiting for her reaction. So she smiles, presses a hand to his cheek.
“I would love that after how thoroughly you’ve already wrecked me,” she says back, voice as low as his.
And then he’s sliding a little further up against her body, hips over hers, and she feels the press of something alien-yet-familiar against her lower belly. It sends another spark straight to her gut, especially with the way Jaal is curving his back and body to show himself off. She looks down between them, and he seems actually quite similar to humans in this regard – except that it looks about a thousand times more interesting and delicious.
His cock juts forward in a gentle curve towards his own abdomen, pink-and-white like the rest of him, and there’s ridges on it like on his head and back, shining with a soft purple glow. It matches the rest of him in girth and length; big, heavy, but a bit on the lean side. No bulbous head or tapered tip; just effortlessly straight-forward.
She reaches out, letting her fingers run over him; it feels stronger, less giving and more solid than a human’s, and heavy and richly textured in the palm of her hand. She can only imagine how that will feel inside her, rubbing up against her, giving her more friction than his fingers ever could. He shudders heavily above her as she experimentally strokes him, and she smiles.
“You look absolutely delicious,” she says, looking up.
He smirks back, cheeks flushed but posture confident. “I am,” he says, looking a bit proud. Then, he casts his eyes downward to himself and back up to her again. “Do you need more… attention, before we…?”
Sara thinks not, not with the way he went down on her and how slick she still feels; but she reaches down between their bodies anyway, slipping her own fingers over her dripping cunt. It’s almost hilariously easy to slip two fingers in, and she pumps them briefly before trying to add a third. It feels like a stretch, but it’s a good one, so she’s sure that he’ll fit where he wants to.
Jaal’s cheeks flush further. “That is very arousing, Sara.”
She winks. “I aim to please. But no, looking at this…” – she holds up her fingers, slick spread over them – “… I think I’m good to go. So if you want to, you’re more than welcome.”
He kisses her first, body shifting until his cock is not pressing against her belly but rather between her thighs, his palms cupping her face. Then, never taking his eyes off of her, he slides his hands down her sides and to her hips, tilting them up towards him. One hand slips away to steady his cock as he presses it against her entrance, and a little spark shoots straight up to Sara’s clit, making her moan and close her eyes, and then he’s slipping in, slow and cautious as always.
Sara holds onto his shoulders, unable to stop the noises that spill over her lips; he goes slow but gods, every inch is a delight. His cock seems to pulse and hum with energy, electrifying her from the inside, and the ridges and folds are firm as they brush up against her walls. It is indeed a stretch, but it feels comfortable and easy, like he was always meant to be here, and then she feels him settle against her pelvis in a way that tells her he’s hit home. All the way inside her.
She opens her eyes to look up to him, and she can’t believe the love filling her heart while other parts are filled to the brim with actual pulsing alien cock – and then he’s tilting his hips up and holy fucking shit, a particularly large, knotted ridge is right there against her already somewhat over-simulated sweet spot. Sara nearly hooks her nails into his back with how good it feels, squeezing her legs around his hips.
“Yes?” Jaal asks, breath mingling with hers.
She nods almost feverishly. “Fuck yes,” she answers.
He smiles down at her, arms bracketed on the ground besides her neck and shoulders, and then starts to move in earnest. It almost slams the breath out of her, how good it feels – all of him dragging and pulsing and pushing inside of her, and all she wants to do is be even closer than she already is. So she wraps her legs around him fully, ankles crossed behind the small of his back, pushing her hips up to his, and Jaal moans low and deep.
“Darling one,” he sighs against her, his thrusts hot and heavy – like the way he licked her clit, he is thorough and takes every stroke from start to finish, keeping up a devastating rhythm and not faltering even once. And the pace is building, his hips snapping between hers faster, trapped underneath her own legs at his back.
“Jaal,” she says, voice breaking, her nails digging into his shoulders. Every time he pushes in, he hits her right there, and it’s too good, it’s almost too much – she pushes her hips back just as hard, just as eagerly, meeting him thrust for thrust. Tips her head up and kisses him, sloppy and with way too much tongue, but she’s never needed as much as she needs right now.
And then, suddenly, he stops, pushing his upper body away from her, staring down. His chest is heaving with the effort, his lips parted and lush. “Sara,” he says then, “Sara, ride me. Show me your strength.”
She stares up at him in surprise, eyes wide. She has a distinct feeling that it means more to him than it does to her, her being on top – the way the angara say it in greeting and passing, too, to stay strong and clear. But she nods anyway, because she’s feeling greedy and she just wants to take what she wants, and Jaal’s response is immediate.
He rolls them over, staying inside of her the entire time, switching their positions – and now he’s the one on his back, thighs pressed up against Sara’s ass, his hands already eagerly coming up to rest on her hips. And Sara sighs happily, sinking back down the few inches that slipped out while they did their little switcheroo – and she’s back home again.
She presses her hands against the high bumps of muscle and bone on his chest, leaning on them as leverage while she rises off of his cock again – almost all the way off, and then back down again with a slam, pushing herself against the hard muscle of his abdomen. And gods, it’s good; filling, rewarding, exquisite. She feels him stare at her in awe and wonder while she takes him at her own pace, and he doesn’t seem to understand the motivation behind her rhythm – gasps in shock when she wiggles her hips against him, his cock going a little side-to-side inside of her; keens when she lifts herself off of him only to take him back in all the way; nearly whimpers when she pumps her hips up and down, a breakneck pace, fucking herself on his cock.
She opens her eyes, smiling as she looks down at him, her breasts bouncing with her effort – and then she slides a hand down her belly to where their bodies are joined, and flicks her fingers against her clit. She clenches around his cock immediately in response, and Jaal moans.
“You are a wonder,” he nearly stammers, fingers trembling at her hips. “If you… If you reach your peak while you ride me, I cannot – I will not – last any longer, darling.”
Sara moans unashamedly, finally settling on one rhythm while she rubs herself. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“I will not be able to continue after,” he gasps, hands squeezing.
Sara laughs, and she’s this close to tipping over already. Their eyes meet, and there’s only love. “Me either, Jaal.”
She then moves her hand away from her clit, never stopping working herself up and down his cock, and takes the hand on her hip, placing the tips of his fingers over her instead. “Finish me,” she asks, smiling at him. “Finish me and I’ll finish you.”
Jaal rubs, a to-the-point up and down that will do the trick in seconds, and nods. His other hand takes one of hers, twining the fingers as best he can with one smaller digit and one bigger one, and squeezes. “You already have me, Sara,” he says then, his hips trembling below hers, “you already have me, body and soul.”
She closes her eyes briefly, savoring the moment – the steady pulse of his cock inside her, the ridges pressing to all kinds of new places she never knew wanted to be filled; the way he gently twists her clit between his thumb and forefinger; the warm, loving presence of his body beneath her.
And Sara knows that nothing will ever feel quite like this – like the birth of a new star, like the light distorting around a black hole, like a nebula exploding, like the big bang pushing forth the entire known universe – but at the same time, this is standing at the helm of new horizons. This is the rush, the excitement, the new and the yet familiar, the hole in her soul finally filled with wonder, beauty and love.
She squeezes his hand back. “I love you,” she gasps, and comes down around him.
And Jaal moves, unexpectedly, thrusting up into her while she clenches around him, a deep rumble from his chest as he does so – his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, and Sara sees the moment on his face when he comes, too. He looks a little desperate, wrecked, and then his eyes are open again and his pupils are huge, the black of them swamping the blue. And there’s no heat or wet shooting into her, but instead she feels the crackle of electricity push up into her and against her clit, and she whimpers.
“Oh, shit,” she curses, staring down between them, and Jaal is positively glowing again – as is her belly, a warm light from the inside, and the heat and sharp thunderous tang of it seem to lick and lap at her right where it matters. And it’s completely and utterly unfair because she can’t, really, not another time –
“Sara,” Jaal cries, loud, hips rolling against her, and she has no idea what’s happening but his cock brushes deep inside of her, and a sharp spark hits her clit, and she’s lost again.
This second (or third, rather) time is more intense, almost a whole-body experience, and she feels herself twitch and gush wet over him as Jaal slows his thrusts, his fingers gentle on her hips. “Fuck,” she whispers back at him, her entire body shaking, and she’s suddenly barely able to support herself above him. “Fuck, Jaal.”
He laughs, leaning back lazily. “You just did, darling one.”
She lets herself slump forward over him, the high bumps on his chest fitting a little awkwardly against the softness of her breasts, but she doesn’t care. She presses her face into his neck and shoulder, sighing deeply. He seems to soften inside of her, but only just a tad; she still twitches around him occasionally, and all the wetness between them is starting to grow sticky.
“What was that,” she says, barely even a question.
His hands have come up to embrace her, running gently over her shoulder blades and back. “Bioelectric charge,” he says, sounding a bit smug. “It happens when I reach my peak. And… I can direct it a bit, if I wish.”
She looks up, suddenly understanding. “Oh my god. You sent it towards my clit deliberately, didn’t you?”
He shrugs as best as he can with her wrapped around him, the smugness still clearly visible in his expression. He slips a hand briefly between them, fluttering his fingers over her lower belly. “And here,” he says quietly, “where you like it best when I am in deep.”
“We were glowing,” Sara says, face buried in his neck again.
He chuckles, chest rumbling beneath hers. “Yes.”
“We are super biologically compatible,” she murmurs, pushing herself off a bit and gently letting his cock slip out of her. The emptiness makes her wince, and it doesn’t really help that his cock stays hard and is still right there, but she’s too tired to go for another round right now. And besides, he said something about needing recovery, too, so she rolls off of him and to the side.
Jaal smiles, keeping his arm wrapped around her while she lays down next to him. “We are indeed. The way you squeeze around me when you come was truly my undoing.”
“Your whole everything is my undoing,” Sara sighs against him, kissing his shoulder. “Your beautiful eyes, your gorgeous body, your love. Your bioelectric charge.”
He laughs, body shaking against hers. “I can do even more with that, if you wish.”
She laces her fingers through his. “With you, I’d do anything. I love you, Jaal.”
His arm around her tightens, and he presses a kiss to her hair. “I love you, too, Sara.”
And then, for a short while as they lie there, enjoying each other’s presence, there is peace and quiet and a beautiful night sky above them – and Sara doesn’t feel the responsibility to lead anyone or to be strong for anyone, because being here in Jaal’s arms is more than enough for now.