mortemscintilla | IC Contact

[Okay considering their conversation earlier, those aren't exactly the sexiest words to hear. Her skin is still burning, but there's a thread of nervousness as he pulls away.]

What are you doing? [She asks even as she lets him settle her between his legs, back to chest. It takes her a moment to notice the mirror.

Oh wow. While the couple on the tv had just looked stupid as they banged each other, this is... really hot. Korra traces her reflection with her eyes, admiring the warm glow of her skin, the lines of her muscles, and the waves of her hair. (She almost thinks she should wear it down more often, except that wouldn't be practical.) The touch of his hand makes her hips rock and she digs her nails into his thighs, entranced.]

[ In the mirror, Hei meets Korra's gaze. Her eyes are full of fascination and a hint of scandal. But the way she stirs her hips, the electric bite of her nails against his thighs -- Oh. That tells its own story. Holding her against him with one arm, he cradles her right breast in his hand. Gives it a rough squeeze, pinching the nipple between his thumb and finger. The palm between her thighs slips lower, two fingers pressing into her wet heat, turning slowly around, in circles, like stirring liquid in a chalice. ]

[ Honestly, if there is ever a woman worth posing before the mirror this way, it's Korra. She's so deliciously female. Not feminine, but female. Curvy in all the right places. Thighs that beg to be grabbed, breasts that demand mauling. Legs that go on and on, like forever in golden-brown. ]

[ Hei's not saying he could never appreciate an anorexic woman. But it's so much easier to appreciate Korra. ]

[ Between his own legs, his erection throbs dully. He's sure she can feel the bulge in his jeans, right against her lower-back. Still, his fingers probe deeper between her thighs. Tease that sweet-spot he's filed away in his memory, pads of fingers circling rough. Face buried in her hair, he breathes her in -- a lost-in-the-wilderness scent he's encountered nowhere else and that he'll always equate with her. ]

Watch yourself come. [ His hand slips lower, pushing two fingers into heat and slick and pressing on her clit with heel of his palm. ] Then I'm going to fuck you.

[ Not here, but in his room. Unless, of course, she changes her mind about the venue. ]

Edited (/edits like a crackwhore) 2013-07-07 01:20 (UTC)

[Like she could take her eyes off herself. Korra's felt out of sorts with her body ever since being shot, haunted by the sense that its betrayed her with its weakness...and that she's betrayed it by getting injured in the first place. Physical therapy has been a long, arduous effort to repair that relationship, but this is the first time in awhile she's really felt connected. Watching herself, seeing herself like this, gives her a new appreciation for it.

Then he presses that spot and she has to fight to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head. She claws his thighs and grinds her back against him, pressing hard against his covered erection.

(After a month of nothing, not even masturbation? This isn't going to take long at all.)]

[ Between Korra's legs, Hei's fingers work slow and steady -- slick noises and relentless friction. His right hand increases its pressure on her nipple. He can feel the shocks of her pulse in it, like her skin is screaming little obscenities in the trap of his fingers. For a few moments he amuses himself by alternating his view of her. The feverish girl in the mirror, watching herself, transfixed, as he brings her off with his hands. And the girl in his arms, her nails like bites of fire, her body moving like a song. Between her proximity and the surreal pornography, his pulse is skittering, all thought dissolving into a single, gnawing concrete need. ]

[ The musculature of his body tenses against her, betraying the microspasms of repressed motion. His breathing is even, but there are little hitches interspersed in-between. Reaching down, he spreads her wide open with two fingers now, all deep-pink inside, the middle finger rubbing her clit round and round. Lets her breast go, and cups her chin with the other hand. Keeping her steady. Not permitting her to look away. He's intrigued, as always, by the contrast of Korra's dark skin and the dizzyingly blue eyes. How does one go about admiring something, if they really do adore it? What tone of voice should he use? Your eyes are so pretty. Too pedestrian. Beautiful? False as a whore's orgasm. I love the color of your eyes. ]

[ But that word -- love -- rings falser than all his lies put together. ]

[ In the end, there's no need to say anything. The entranced look in his eyes as he drags them up Korra's body to meet her own, in the mirror, tells her everything she needs to know. ]

[ Come on, Korra. Come on. ]

[Little whimpers rip from her throat as her body tenses, trembles, burns. She bites her lip, her jaw aching from the tension, and feels something warm and slick under her fingers (shit, did she seriously claw him hard enough to break skin?). She tries to shake off his grip -- not because she wants to look away, but because she instinctively resists any attempts at control -- but it proves necessary when their eyes meet. The look of total appreciation on his face makes her blush, and in light of the conversation they had earlier, she feels self-conscious. Far from unpleasant yet still overwhelming.

But she can't look away: not from his eyes, or from her body, not until her climax breaks and she closes her eyes and screams.]

[ Her nails have, in fact, stamped oozing red half-moons into his thighs. Hei can smell the familiar tang of copper, overlaying Korra's febrile scent. But it doesn't matter. The sensory circuit of pleasure, pain and frustration draws a bright triangle of sensation all across his body. Every major muscle group is taut, stretched in excitement. He knows he's got his fingers pressed on the right spot inside Korra, because her cries are ratcheting up; she's drawing in ragged breaths, and her whole body is beginning to shudder. It's breathtaking, watching her climb towards her crest; as incredible as it is watching her fight. ]

[ Diligently, he carries on stroking her. In the mirror, it's like she's alone. He's almost detached from what's going on, just the instrument of her pleasure, his hands like pale spiders on her dark skin. He can see the effect of what he's doing, see every secret flex and twitch under his fingers, see the wetness spreading out from the center, the orgasm building up slowly from the root of her. It's fascinating, a little unreal, but one of the most amazing things he's ever seen. More thrilling still, is how into it she seems. How she has, momentarily, ceded all control. ]

[ Transfixed on her image in the mirror, he watches her come, her hips snapping up, her scream sending a dizzying spike of lust through his groin. ]

[ Still, his fingers keep moving. Stretching her climax out, reading the definitive and fluid motions of her hips. Slowing, by degrees, to almost idle stirs of fingertips. He's kissing her now, her shoulders, back, neck, wherever he can touch. Lips moving in a secret, silent language across her skin, as he tips her head and catches her mouth with his. A soft and tender kiss -- once upon a time, both were things Hei wasn't wholly sure he could bestow. ]

[ But right now? They come frighteningly easy. ]

[She melts against him, muscles trembling and weak. Her fingers brush over the wounds she caused, smearing blood over his skin as he kisses her neck.

That was... She can't find the breath to speak, or the words to say, but everything she feels comes through when their lips meet. (It's dizzying how different he can be, how he can look at her with eyes that don't seem at all human and then ten minutes later kiss her with enough feeling to knock her senseless.)]

[ Humming, Hei gorges on her mouth. Coaxes her lips apart to suck on her tongue between light scrapes of teeth. He realizes -- belatedly -- why he likes her kisses so much. Everything that's cold turns warm. For a long moment, the flat of his palm a warm press along her neck, the separate things they're thinking and feeling speed up and blend together into one thing, no disconnect, just kissing. They may both be inarticulate with words, seldom on the same wavelength, but not this way. ]

[ This way they almost always get the message across. ]

[ He's slow to end the kiss, tugging her lower-lip between his teeth before breaking on a ragged inhale. His fingers are still trapped inside her, her sex giving little belated ripplets around them. He pulls the digits out with a hint of a smile and parts them, glistening-wet. Catches her right hand, the nail-beds damp and red, and brings their threaded fingers to his mouth, sucking one by one on the fingers, slowly, tasting her tart spendings and the aftertraces of his own blood. Decides that he likes the taste -- or, at least, he likes her taste, and the taste of them together. ]

[ Teeth closed around the joint of her index finger, his eyes flick to hers. ]

This is usually the part where I haul you up.

[ No delicacy, no warnings. For the sake of her injuries, he's reined in the impulse. But the way he presses against her, the bulge in his jeans clearly outlined against her spine, makes it clear his patience is dangling on a string. ]

[She tries to move her legs, but there's no way she's going anywhere on them. That climax had been a long time coming, and it's bowled her over.]

If you want to do anything else, you'll have to.

[ Hei shrugs a shoulder, a silent Well in that case -- before hoisting her carefully about to face him. Slipping his arms under and around her, making sure her weight is distributed, he scoops her up against his chest easily, rising off the couch to the creak of the cushions. He's so painfully erect that it's tempting to curve into himself, to diminish the discomfort. But there's something indescribably delicious (familiar) about the heft of Korra's body in his. Tipping his head down, his mouth catches hers again, hungry and sloppy and halfway to biting, even as he navigates with half-lidded eyes across darkness and a narrow corridor toward his bedroom. ]

[ Elbowing the lightswitch on, blinking in the bright glow, he tips Korra into bed. The mattress thumps and the old springs whine, but it's probably a measure of his own urgency that he doesn't break their mouths to check on her condition. Instead he ratchets the kisses higher, breathless and devouring. The rub of her bare skin against his clothes is both arousing and aggravating. ]

[ But for once, that perceived inequality is something he's impatient to rectify. ]

[She wraps her good arm around his neck while her other stays close to her body, hand tugging at his shirt as she returns his kisses.

Ow. The sudden bright lights make her flinch. Weird. He never turns on lights; he always does things in the dark. (She doesn't mind, certainly feels no need to hide her body in the darkness.) Another Ow!!! as he dumps her onto the mattress, whacking her injured shoulder, but the post-climax high buffers the pain. She murmurs faint protest just on principle even as she reaches down to undo his pants.]

[ It's ingrained habit that has Hei fucking mostly in darkness. He's taken out enough people through backlit windows to have developed a permanent wariness about switching the lights on. But here, he's long since gotten his place outfitted with a metallic glaze -- infrared and wi-fi proof. And watching Korra in the mirror had stirred awake the voyeur in him. He wants the full visual. ]

[ His hand cups her jaw, keeping her mouth on his, swallowing her Ow. He exhales a noise of his own, low in his throat, needy and only vaguely apologetic. Shifts so he's entirely on the bed, partly on her, partly beside her. With his free hand, he helps her unfasten his jeans, sloughing the denim off his legs with a twist and kick to drop them on the floor. His shirt follows; dragging his mouth from hers, he stretches only to wrench open the bedside drawer, plucking the condom wrapper to a crinkle of foil. His hands know their work for the practiced rip-and-roll. Against his overheated skin, the rubber is pleasantly cool. ]

[ The impulse to be abrupt and pushy is ever-present. But he quashes it. Grabbing a handful of pillows from the headboard, he arranges Korra more comfortably. Half-propped up with two pillows under her head and shoulders, and one under her hips, angling her so she's laid wide open to him. Kneeling, he hooks one of her legs gently over each arm. Rubs his erection along her wet seam, a teasing up-and-down, poised over her, wanting to fill her up, not crush her. ]

[ His expression is heavy-lidded and indulgent, all the signposts of sharp tension there in his body for Korra to read. Okay? ]

[The pillow arrangement feels weird. It definitely helps ease the pressure on her shoulder and thigh, which is great, but she's not used to having that many. A firm bed, a single pillow, and a blanket -- that's all she's ever needed.

She shivers as he rubs against her and grabs his arms, digging her nails in. She wants to tug him down onto her, skin on skin, sharing breath. Her overheated skin feels chilled with their bodies in this perpendicular angle.]

[ Hei catches his breath at the bite of her nails. The ache in his erection turns to sharp needles as he nudges between her legs, teasing her with just the head, popping it in and out, so close to that delightful slickness and pressure. Her thighs are buttery soft under his palms. His fingers dimple the damp skin as his grip slips, then tightens, parting her legs wider, bracing his body for the coming shock of heat, gathering himself like a deep-sea diver gathers for the final plunge. He leans in slowly, his body a tense arch over hers, breathing jittery and broken, his weight mostly on his knees. He wants so badly to cover her, make himself heavy; there's a disconnect in this position that whets the barbed edge of his frustration. ]

[ But he doesn't want to risk hurting her. ]

[ His mouth covers hers, feeding on the breath from her parted lips, exhaling a raspy sound into her as he pushes -- a little wince of restraint and a great shock of Yes -- so all her delicious wet heat meets all his weight and force. ]

[She whimpers as he teases her, each breath heavy and thick. There's a sense of relief when he finally leans over, and she bites his lip to hold him in place, encourage him to stay.

He slides in and she cries out, her hips bucking up to meet his on instinct.]

[ Her cry sends a thousand volts through Hei. Spine arched, his mouth touches hers, the lower-lip caught between Korra's teeth, but it can't rightly be called a kiss. His eyes are half-lidded and hazy, watching the first shocks of pleasure break over her sweet face. It's be so easy to sink into this, take the rough route. Instead, on a slow inhalation, he lets his lips break from hers. Not going far. Just enough to glance down her body to where they're joined -- visual proof of possession. Slowly, he eases partways out of her, then back in. Slick. Perfect. His first Mmm is that of relief. He can give in to the surge of impatience, and at the same time find the self-restraint to stem the rush, to absorb the full measure of her heat. ]

[ The rhythm he sets is controlled. No other word for it. Short, grinding thrusts, as if he can't stand to withdraw too far. Every bit of her feels laid open against him, his pelvic bone tight against her clit, his cock touching the mouth of her womb on every downstroke, sending sparks flying behind his eyes like fireflies in the dark. Dipping his head, he kisses her, his breathing coming in starts and stops. ]

I missed this.

[ It's a whisper that sounds, almost, like he's sharing a dubious secret. (It's still not for the likes of Hei, to say I missed you.) ]

[Her eyes fly open, wide and surprised and very, very blue. I missed this. It's an emotional admission she hadn't expected from him.]

Me too.

[Her voice is hoarse, with a faint whine of need.]

[ Hei watches the effect of the words on her, and it's breathtaking. Surreal, too. Because, for once, he's sincere. Strange to think he'd dismissed Korra because she'd never want someone like him, because each was essentially unavailable to the likes of the other. Because they had so little in common. Because she had no tricks up her sleeve to turn his jaded and perverse wheels, no voice to reach past his tangle of barbed wire. Because she had no way to touch him, and never would. He didn't take her seriously because she had the wrong-shaped brain. ]

[ But for all that disconnect, there is skin. Human heat and breath and saliva and come. Skin, he's forgotten since parting from Amber, sometimes has a chilling eloquence of its own. And even if it whispers all the irrational things, he can't stay deaf to that stickysweet poignancy of human contact. ]

[ But he can regret its waste. Because nothing can come of it. ]

[ On a low, raw noise, he kisses her again, his parted lips covering hers. Hard, full of hunger, infectious. Keeping up that grinding rhythm, angling his hips so his erection rubs against that sweet-spot inside her, language slowly crowded out by a gnawing force as he crosses from desire into need. ]

[Bodies really do speak a language all their own, communicating secret truths. If she thinks about it, Korra can't understand how they reached this point. How did they get from mutual threats to mutual caring? It makes no sense. But she doesn't try to understand it. (Just as she never tried to undertand the Equalists... the darker side of her tendency to accept that things are the way they are.) For the moment, the stories their bodies tell together are good enough for her.

Returning his kiss, need matching need, she grinds against him and reaches down to cup his balls as he thrusts inside, still unwilling to just sit there and enjoy the ride.]

[ Hei exhales a sibilant noise into her mouth -- warning and approving all at once. The way she grinds against him, the touch of her coasting hand, seems to lick trails of phosphorescence across his spine. Dissolving all restraint. The room echoes with the ragged exhalations forcing themselves up his throat as he fucks her. Hard, harder, then harder still, his body building to a rapid rhythm. Breaking from her mouth, he draws back to give himself a view. Korra spread out beneath him -- a hot mess of spread hair and darky-flushed skin on angelic white sheets. A five-star delicacy with perfect presentation. He watches her breasts sway to his each movement, their taut points like little scolding fingers, Naughty, naughty. ]

[ Carefully, he lifts her good leg to his shoulder so they're wedged together tighter. And -- Oh. This is even better. Short, deep, reverberant thrusts that bring him dangerously near the edge, but never past it, over and over. Slipping his free hand between her legs, he circles her clit with the pad of his thumb. Slowly, as if feeling the texture of a delicate object -- even if the pace he rocks at is anything but delicate now. ]

Hynnng! [Her eyes squeeze shut as her body is rocked by explosions. She can still feel him looming over her, his flat eyes watching her and somehow it makes everything that much more hot. (Still, his pace is punishing, and while the spikes of pain don't bother her in her blissed-out state, they're keeping her from tumbling over than edge just yet.)]

[ Hei is teetering on the brink of sensory overload. There's something both obscene and painfully erotic about the noises tumbling from Korra, sweet plaintive mews that make his balls crawl, make him shudder. Her head is tipped back now, her dark throat taut, thrilling. That expression on her face would be perfect for illustrating to any beginner the truth about sex -- its cruelty and isolation. Beneath them, the mattress jolts to his thrusts, whining in protest at the rough treatment. But it can't fool anyone. It's taken a lot worse than this. ]

[ So has Korra, of course. But a dim buzz in Hei's head warns him to slow down. ]

[ Reluctantly, he lets both her legs fold around his arms again. His back pulls into a dip as he leans over her. Slows from hard thrusts into undulations that are minute and deep, barely moving at all now, tiny increments that make his spine simmer and quake with restraint. Taking Korra's right hand, their fingers interlaced, he guides it between her thighs. The lightest brush, once, again, then again, just the tips of her fingers in slick circles, and then he sucks them greedily into his mouth, before bringing them back to her clit. ]

[ His body is half in spasms now; he can feel his orgasm halfway there, a plane in the distance and his mind the control tower. The landing lights in his nerves are flaring up to guide it in. Come on, Korra. Let go. ]

[He takes her hand and her eyes snap open. He's close again; she likes it better with way. As hot as it was before, having him watch her -- and it was hotter than this -- she feels more secure with him close. She shivers as he sucks on her fingers before bringing them back down to her clit. Her eyes remain locked on his face, tracing each slight change in expression.

Not close enough. She leans up to grab his lips in a kiss, biting his mouth hard. She tenses -- shudders -- falls to pieces against him.]

[ Hei stutters gasps into her mouth, feeling the pulsations of her body around him turn to deep shudders. It's almost overwhelming, all flutters and slick and heat, feeding a jag of lightning low in his belly. Tipping him toward the edge for that final red ride. All at once, his control spools out and he drags her in tight, jerking into her, hips snapping as his teeth sink against her lips, a tang of blood mixing with the saliva. Distantly, a voice warns him to slow down. His rhythm is almost vicious, his hands on her thighs a crushing grip that'll leave fingerprints on the dark flesh. But the warnings -- Easy -- Go slow -- have no meaning. They become nonsense white-noise and the meter by which he fucks her, until everything goes blurry and he tenses on a helpless convulsion -- the climax searing red lines across his brain and leaving him boneless and emptied. ]

[ Long fall, like off a skyscraper without a wire. But the landing is smooth. Slumping next to Korra, he lets an arm sling heavy and languid around her, fingers cradling the shape of her skull. Presses through the soft disorder of her hair to nose the sweat-damp line of her neck. Listening, as the imperfect silence spins out, to the thud of her pulse. And, beneath that, from his own chest, the beginnings of a deep contented purr. ]

[Through the giddy fog of pleasure, there's a faint sense of Ow. She shifts, inching closer to him, and the sensation becomes more clear. Ow. She feels like she just learned to walk and then went straight to a marathon (which, in a way, she did...) It was worth it, though.

Smiling, she rolls just slightly so she can kiss his chin.]

AUGH! [Forget curling up on him; she's curled up, clutching her injured shoulder. Her doctor had warned her that because of the bullet wound, her shoulder would be prone to dislocating. Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.]

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