[The cold hits her when he pulls away, bringing her another step closer to being awake. Yet another when he comes back in and his chest is hard and flat, the smell male and achingly familiar.
The dream fades completely as he slides his hand between her legs, Kyoshi and Taya banished by a spike of pleasure too sharp for a dream. Korra finds herself in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness, where she's aware of what's going on around her, but it doesn't yet register as real. (Has she always been this difficult to wake? The same thing happened on the night Naga died: she slept almost to the very point of the attack, and her mind didn't catch up with reality until it was too late.) Nor does she really want it to. Everything feels so nice right now -- his warm, soft touch, the little kisses over her face, the slight wet pressure on her breasts. Her hips rock against his hand, begging for more, but she clings to the eerie dreaminess, trying to hold onto it for as long as she can.]
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The dream fades completely as he slides his hand between her legs, Kyoshi and Taya banished by a spike of pleasure too sharp for a dream. Korra finds herself in that hazy place between sleep and wakefulness, where she's aware of what's going on around her, but it doesn't yet register as real. (Has she always been this difficult to wake? The same thing happened on the night Naga died: she slept almost to the very point of the attack, and her mind didn't catch up with reality until it was too late.) Nor does she really want it to. Everything feels so nice right now -- his warm, soft touch, the little kisses over her face, the slight wet pressure on her breasts. Her hips rock against his hand, begging for more, but she clings to the eerie dreaminess, trying to hold onto it for as long as she can.]