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[Other people have looked at her with those eyes, like they wanted to eat her alive, and it made Korra feel slimy and gross. But Hei's left a warm, tingling trail behind them. Kind of funny how the person makes all the difference.

There's a hitch in her breathing when he bites her and she lets her eyes drift shut, focusing her attention on the hot trail of his tongue. She threads her fingers in his hair and holds on tight. She wants to touch him so badly, it almost hurts. She wants to make his skin shiver, to draw out moans and choked gasps. It's one of the things that drives her nuts about him, how he always seems to position things so she can do little more than hold on and cry out.

She's not a doll.]

Stop.

[Her clit twinges protest as she pushes him back. She's neglected it in the chaos of the past week, and it ached in anticipation. But Korra has other things on her mind.

Assuming he doesn't resist, she pushes him back onto the floor. Leans over him, her belly rubbing against his burgeoning erection, and nips his collarbone. Every bite is chased with a little kiss.]

[ It wouldn't do to tell Korra that there've been partners Hei has kept securely planted on their backs. Others he's rolled to their stomachs because he hadn't wanted to see their faces, had wanted to detach into a substitution of memory. In the end, sex is, for him, steeped in power-play -- a cold performance and a means to an end. Letting someone else take the reins is only possible with a degree of almost-trust. ]

[ But he's quickly learnt that no matter how much of a beginner Korra is, she approaches intimacy the same way she does a battle. Stumbling and still-learning, but refusing to yield. ]

[ He's able to press a bite to the slope of her belly before she pushes him back. There's a kneejerk urge to tense, to fight against being pinned down, so many hangovers from battle invading his mind. Instead he exhales quietly as he shifts his hips and relaxes underneath her. There's a dark, predatory sort of stillness to him, but the tilt of his lips is lazy. Spanning her shape in his hands, he presses his palms against the expanse of her back. Clasps her closer; enjoying the warm rub of her belly. The first touch of her teeth draws a gasp: louder, softer, almost inaudibly as if he's inhaling. ]

[ He's not one to relinquish control easily; this is more of a concession, a silent, You have the floor. ]

[She smiles against him and nibbles her way down his body, making sure her body never breaks contact with his. She kisses the skin right above his pants before undoing them. She pulls them down, just enough to free his cock and take it in hand.

A part of her is nervous. She knows what she wants to do, has the basic idea of how it works. It's a stupid, stupid thing to be scared of...but the instinctive discomfort is still hard to overcome. Her mouth hovers over his head, her breath warm and moist against him. She licks her lips, her tongue almost brushing against him. A breath for courage, and she takes him in her mouth.

Everything has a learning curve. She knows enough to keep her teeth safely away, but she doesn't know when to stop. She almost chokes on him and pulls back. People find this fun?]

[ There's a raspy hum in the back of Hei's throat as her mouth travels lower, leaving cool moist spots behind. But that coolness is a relief to the slow heat he's baking in. He's not used to this restrained patience -- with him, everything is almost always on his terms, fast and efficient and rough. Hints of frustration are already creeping into his expression. ]

[ He lets his fingers card through her hair while she slides lower, radiating uncertainty, but with a clear destination in mind. Whipcord muscles twitch under her palm as she trails south, undoing his pants to take his erection in her hand. The grip in her hair tightens; he props himself up on an elbow, the better to see her mouth up close. Her warm breath, the spicysweet sight of her, is enough to make him shiver; he swallows on a slow, heavy inhalation -- only to be abruptly cut off because-- ]

Fuck--

[ Then she's choking, and he is too, on a laugh that he can't stop. Sitting up completely, he takes her face in both hands. There's a tiny crook still at the corner of his mouth, the gaze both dark and warm. ] Take it easy. [ Even Avatars have a gag-reflex, need he remind you. ]

[Can she curl up and die now? Seriously. That would be fantastic. She's too embarrassed to look him in the eye, though she leans into his hand. She feels stupid and awkward. It's one thing to be inexperienced, and something else entirely to be so obvious about it. His laughter doesn't help. She can just imagine how young and stupid he thinks she is.

(At the same time, she's never heard him laugh before. It's nice. It'd be nicer if he wasn't laughing at her.)]

[ Hei tilts his head as her mood mysteriously deflates. It takes a while before he realizes -- oh. She's embarrassed. By the faux-pas. By the laugh. Her usual manner, so full of nervy verve, often makes it easy to forget how diffident and unsure and young she is under the surface. In need of encouragement. ]

[ The corners of his mouth are still lifted. But there's no roll of his eyes, no sarcasm or mockery. He draws her closer, printing quick hot kisses to her cheeks and chin and around her mouth. ]

It's all right. You were doing fine.

[ Don't stop now. If it's instruction she's after, he'll give it. It's a marked difference from his usual encounters. An even greater strain on his patience. But it doesn't matter. He has time; he can afford the playfulness. He doesn't want her to be any different than what she is. ]

[She closes her eyes as he kisses her, opens them as he speaks. She searches his face for reassurance and -- almost surprisingly -- finds it. He's rewarded with a trembling smile and a nod. Let's do this.

She takes him back in hand and strokes it a few times (a reminder that she doesn't completely suck at everything) before leaning back down. This time she wraps her lips around little more than the head. She traces the shape of it with her tongue. The flavor is salty, a mix of sweat and something she can't describe. Weird, but not unpleasant.

Of course, the real fun isn't in the taste. The real fun is in getting a reaction out of him.]

[ Hei's control is a steady thing, steel cords and cold delineations between muscle and mind. But the feel of her hand on him definitely gets a reaction: his breathing is ever-so-subtly knocked out of rhythm, tiny purrs that sound content and pleased. Both his hands spread through her hair. On impulse he tugs off one of the ties framing her face. The girlishness doesn't seem appropriate right now. Soon he's undone all the pieces, combing and gathering her hair, slipping it through his fingers, twining it into thick ropes. ]

[ When her mouth covers him, he exhales on a quiet groan, eyes closing halfway. There's an ingrained impulse to thrust up into her mouth, to yank her hair. But he doesn't want to scare her off. So unsure, so unpracticed; but her mouth is hot and her tongue is liquid, and it's a war not to let go before he can enjoy this a bit more. Swallowing thickly, he encourages, ]

That's good. Keep going. [ A ragged breath, and then, ] Use your teeth a bit -- you won't hurt me. [ Graze. Don't bite. As long as it's not Nosferatu going down on him, a little extra stimulation is always a plus. ]

[She feels different with her hair down -- a little naked, even with all her clothes on, a little lewd.

She likes it. Likes the feeling of his fingers in her hair, and likes even better his thick voice and heavy breathing. It bolsters her confidence, so she sinks down on him a little more, and runs her tongue along the thick, throbbing vein. She tries to remember what he had done to her; the anatomy is different, but similar principles could be applied.

She looks up at him uncertainly when he tells her to use her teeth. The White Lotus guards she had overhead gossiping about their sex lives had made it seem like teeth were a Bad Thing. But he would know his body best.

You should probably learn to be a little clearer with your directions, though, Hei. She does bite down a little -- not hard, but definitely a bite. It feels good everywhere else, after all, and he'd said she wouldn't hurt him.]

[ Hei knows what does his own body in, and it's the friction and tonguework, more than anything. There's a sharp inhale and a flex of fingers in her hair as she slides lower, a half-bitten grunt as she takes him in deeper. Moist heat. Slick, smooth suction. Still not enough, not by a long shot, but fuck does it feel good. ]

[ Except, by this point, he should know better not to anticipate surprises, not with Korra and not with this, because the sensation of teeth teeth teeth is a bright unexpected shock. Shit. He hisses between clenched teeth, twitching like hot wax is being dripped on his flesh. (Demonstrative with pleasure, but his unconditioned reflex is to always choke back any sound of discomfort). His fingers dig into the base of her skull -- not brutal, but a very clear warning. ]

[ A little too much. ]

[ It's not completely her fault, though. He chokes back his irritation and takes one of her hands. Lifts it to his mouth, sucking the first two fingers in. A wet flick of tongue. A delicate edge of teeth. Demonstrating what he meant. ]

[The moment his grip tightens, she pulls away. ]

Sorry! I'm so sorry. [stupid stupid stupid stupid] Are you okay?

[She bites her lip as he takes her fingers into his mouth and demonstrates. She can tell he's irritated - who wouldn't be? - and it makes her nervous. She can never tell when the annoyance will pass or when it will cause him to shut down. The last thing she can handle right now is him shutting down. She watches his face for any sign.

When she's reassured herself that he's still there, she slowly leans down and tries again. She runs her tongue apologetically over the place she bit, and then very, VERY carefully scrapes her teeth across the top. Her eyes stay on his face, looking for any sign of discomfort or irritation.]

[ Hei's eyes still express a cool disengagement. But that's his kneejerk if he's skirting the line of adrenaline or potential pain. It's a hard concept to get across in words, but the war has tattooed into his psyche that rapid heartbeats, buzzing nerves and graying periphery equal total detachment and a readiness to Fight-Kill. But that's not what it is here. It's still an effort to remind himself that sometimes B (excitement) feels like A (hyperarousal) without being anything at all like A. ]

[ He takes a deep breath, lets the tension seep out nice and slow. Korra's hand is still gripped in his. He presses a kiss to the palm -- a silent Press start to resume. So timid again, so self-conscious -- he has to remind himself if this is going to be A Regular Thing, he needs to be the patient one here. ]

[ When she takes him back in her mouth, his eyes flutter shut, lips parted on a sound that's both loaded and relieved. It's not the ultimate sexual experience: he's worried about scaring her, she's worried about hurting him, but he's very flattered and turned on that she's giving this to him. Lips against her palm, he murmurs, ] You're doing good. You're doing so good. [ The More is implicit in the tight curl of his free hand in her hair,in the incremental shift of his hips. ]

[She relaxes at the praise. As much as she likes the feel of his lips against her palm, it's an awkward angle for her arm, so she gently disengages and resettles herself on the floor. Blows cool air across the warm, damp flesh before taking him back in. Just a little deeper, her teeth scraping just a little as one hand massages him at the base.

It's amazing how frightening having power can be. It doesn't make any sense to her. She's always been the strongest, one of the most powerful. She'd thought that meant not having to be afraid of anything. Fear is for when you're helpless -- asking the boy you like on a date, knowing you can't beat him into liking you; facing a man who can take away your ability to move and your very identity. Being handed something vulnerable to pleasure shouldn't frighten her. Knowing she's capable of killing to protect other people shouldn't make her want to hide.

She swirls her tongue around him, trying to make up for the earlier pain.]

[ It's not a difficult concept to comprehend. Power comes in different shades, often zigzagging between a tenuous sense of invincibility and vulnerability. Unless you're a sociopath, taking a life never feels natural; unless you're a megalomaniac, the acquisition of power -- in any form -- comes with the weight of consequence. Comprehending your own dimensions, realizing the darkness and ugliness you're capable of -- it's like edging on a precipice, unable to see the terrifying bottom. Not knowing where it ends. ]

[ It's not something Hei particularly dwells on. If he thinks about it, ponders it, becomes too human, if he becomes less than a killer on the battlefield, that's no good. Better to be detached and aloof. Aloof is smarter. Aloof is strategic. It prolongs the length of your life. (Even if that aloofness doesn't last beyond the night.)]

[ The air feels brisk on the slicked skin of his erection, and each brief pause draws a quiet, frustrated noise from his throat, just in time for a sibilant groan when she starts again. She reminds him of someone playing with a weapon -- one that's never been used before, and she isn't quite sure how to handle. Cradling her skull on the cage of his hands, he tangles his fingers through her hair, a play at tender rather than the real thing. Abruptly, he tugs -- not hard but definitely forceful. The order is clear. Faster. ]

[ His control is already poised on a jittery edge. If she keeps this up, it will buckle in no time. ]

Erk!

[The tug takes her by surprise, but she gets the message. She increases the tempo in rhythm with her hand, heat and suction and gentle scrapes. She's nervous still, but there's excitement, too, at the idea of bringing him off.]

[ Not bad for a beginner at all. She's hitting all the right angles, just the right blend of wet friction and the bright edge of teeth. It's not artfully choreographed, but the enthusiasm is enough to nearly have his eyes rolling back in his head. He fights it off, because the sight of her like this -- bright eyes and spit-slick lips and the way her hair brushes his legs and spills over his widespread fingers -- oh, it's worth it. ]

[ His chest has an abbreviated rise-and-fall; a quiet shiver rolls in the muscles of abdomen. His lips part in a semi-circle, but he doesn't make a sound (or if he does, it's at a frequency only puppy-ears can hear.) Then -- ] Don't -- [ Don't swallow. Don't swallow. Doesn't matter how healthy his diet is or how loaded he is on fruit smoothies. If this is her first time, she won't enjoy the taste. But whatever he's about to say is lost in the headspinning blur of sight and sensation, and there's no way he can't jerk his hips up, hard, into her mouth. He's almost sorry, but the apology has fizzled into a blind dash toward the finish. ]

Blerch!

[Okay that hurt. She pulls back as fast as she can, coughing and hacking and ugh oh wow it's in her mouth and on her face and her shirt. She spits and wipes her face and coughs some more.

At some point, the coughing turns into laughter. She can't help it. At some point, things stop being embarrassing and are just hilarious.]

[ Hei's shoulders shake in soundless laughter. He can't help it. The orgasm was so sudden -- faraway one moment and everywhere the next. The lines of his body melt into a quiet relaxation -- head lolling back, eyes dark and half-lidded, mouth parted around slow, ending gasps. God, it was impossible to know just how tightly-wound he was until he let her unravel all those knots. This... This is a definite step up. ]

[ Lazily, he straightens to regard Korra. There's a wry twist to his mouth, both sated and amused. ]

Don't think I've met anyone who finds a Milky Lewinsky outfit funny.

[ On that note... He stretches up, with a crick in his spine, arm reaching for -- oh, there it is, a wad of napkins on the counter. Practicality at its most slothful, he dabs at the mess on her face, wanting to help her clean up, but also willing to let her do it herself, because he doesn't feel like moving too much just yet. ]

A what? [cough]

[She takes the napkins and cleans her face. Her shirt is not so easily taken care of. And...did it get in her hair? Gross.

Even so, she smiles at him. He looks all sleepy and content, like Naga after a big meal. It makes her want to kiss him.]

Doesn't matter.

[ Pleasure continues to bounce through his body, limbs like wet noodles. He's KO'ed for the moment, but hardly down for the count; his mind may have aged in dog-years, but the body is still a twenty-two-year old's. Having an eager and bright-eyed Korra here -- even grunged up as she is -- is a delicious incentive. Still pleasantly buzzed, he leans forward and catches her head in both hands. Kisses her, languid and breathless, tongue rolling gently into her mouth. He used to be so squeamish about that as a teenager. ]

[ But now -- well, he’s done dirtier things. ]

[A happy little purr and she leans into him, her body tingling all over. It's a good thing he's not done, because she's no altruist, and he's not the only one she wants to get off tonight. One hand helps her keep balance, and the other she tangles into his hair, pulling him closer.]

[ It's fortunate for Korra that she's with the present Hei, not his counterpart in Heaven's War. The Black Reaper of then would've had no qualms about blowing his load into her mouth and shoving her out the door. He can still hear Reynard Maxley's advice for these encounters: Never fuck a girl once unless she's a whore. Never fuck her three times; she'll think you're in a relationship. ]

[ Part of him knows, from experience, how true the words ring. The other part wants to cut that gruff voice, the memory, into slimy bits with a blade. ]

[ His eyes drift shut as she draws him in, soft kisses melting to greedier ones. Her rumpled clothes against the bare skin of his torso are at once irritating and inciting. It's not chilly in the room but it's cool; her heat seeps into him, stirring him up. One hand stays threaded in her hair, cupping the round of her skull, thumb against that killing-point where neck meets jaw. The other slips down under her top, fingers stroking along her side and ribs, to the cup the swell of one breast. He squeezes lightly, then more roughly, feeling the nipple against his palm. ]

[ Wanting to rip each scrap of material off, but unwilling to break the languorous connection between their mouths. ]

Edited 2013-01-15 08:58 (UTC)

[They're certainly in something, although it's no kind of relationship that Korra understands; it falls well outside of her narrow world. For now, she's content to simply take it for what it is and not think too hard about it. Let sleeping wolves lie.

His hand climbs under her shirt and her nails dig into his scalp. She lets go to reach behind her and undo the clasp of her bra (worn deliberately for the occasion - it's not pretty and it doesn't match her underwear, but it's easy to get off). Her lips don't leave his until the clasp is undone. She pulls off her dirty shirt and slides off her bra. The chill in the air is slight but still makes her shiver.]

[ Avoidance and evasion. The best solution. Relationships breed expectations, after all. People start wanting too much of each other. He'd prefer to be with someone who is incapable of wanting more than he's willing to give. (Then again, she doesn't know him any better than the surface, and he's terrified of being known. Isn't that, in essence, the classic relationship?) ]

[ When she peels her shirt off, Hei regards her, his expression appreciative and open -- as open as it gets, anyway, in the semi-dark between two people. The hair tumbling around her face, the breasts pebbled in the coolish air -- she reminds him of an erotic travel ad. Tan skin and bouncy curves and eyes the color of the sea. He keeps that whimsy to himself, circling her in instead, enjoying the warm rub of her skin and the feel of her breasts pushed against him. ]

[ Attention drifts to her jaw, her neck, the slope of shoulders and breasts -- wet, gnawing kisses and slow laps of tongue, as if he wants to map out a bruised trail. Lightly he rakes the short fingernails of his hand along her back. Lowers his head to press kisses to each nipple, tracing their roundness in wet lines, before biting them in shocks of pleasurepain. ]

[ The last time he fooled around with anyone like this on his apartment floor, for the sake of fooling around was -- never, but that doesn't mean he's any less focused about it. ]

[The classic relationship? Don't ask Korra - she wouldn't know. Her parents are, as far as she's aware, happily married, but she's too young to see them as an adult would, to see beyond the facade that many parents present their children. And in all honesty, the Order of the White Lotus raised her more than they did. She has glimpses of her family and Tenzin's family as models of how relationships work, but no exposure beyond that.

His efforts are rewarded with little whimpers and shallow, erratic breaths. There's a novelty in being wanted by someone. Mako had wanted her, but not enough to be honest with Asami. (Bolin had wanted her too, but she didn't -- still doesn't -- know what to do with unconditional love. She's always had to work for it before.) The thrill of desire intertwines with the thrill of being desired, generating a dizzying heat.

Her nails claw against his shoulders, his neck, in tandem with every bite and lick, but it's still not enough. It's been a week heavy in violence and barren of pleasure. She shifts, straddling one of his legs so she can grind against it, every part of her filled with need.]

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