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[ Hei hears Korra's demand almost at a muffled distance; more vibration than sound. Then again, that might be because his face is pushed to the side of Korra's throat, his hard breath stirring her hair, his hands stealing up her sides and ribs. He holds her tight for a moment, not affectionate or romantic so much as possessive, feeling her soft bra cups squashed against his chest, her belly against his. He kisses her throat and shoulder and again her throat, sucking a mottling of marks onto her skin, breaking blood vessels with his mouth. Her breasts, cupped in the fabric of her brassiere, are heavy in his hands, and he kneads them through the material and underwire with a scientific slowness. ]

[ Pants? Oh. Right. Breaking away, he slips off his shoes, then the constriction of jeans, in a tight kicking-squirming motion, until he's on his knees at the foot of the bed. Closing a hand around each of Korra's ankles, he drags her until she's sitting at the edge, her legs hanging down on either side of him. There's a moment to get her boots off, before he drags off her jeans and underwear. Biting the rounds of her bare knees, he mouths the inside of one thigh, dragging his teeth across the smooth skin to the final stretch between her legs. ]

Pushy pushy pushy. [Korra mutters as she squirms out of her jeans. She feels like she's talking more than she usually does when they fuck -- their encounters, while far from quiet, are generally short on actual words -- but she still feels like he's detached somehow. His body is operating on animal instinct while his thoughts are somewhere else.

Their encounters almost always fall into the same pattern: he eats her out, she gets him off, then they have sex. Before that night with the ropes and the chocolate, she couldn't even have imagined another way of doing it. Now... now she doesn't want ropes, and she doesn't want chocolate, but she wants something other than the routine that at this point they could both do in their sleep.

She grabs his hair before he can reach his intended destination.]

Stop.

[She tugs, just hard enough to encourage him to straighten.] Get back in bed with me. [If he does, she'll gently guide him down until they're lying face to face, his hand between her thighs, her hand around his erection. A wild and crazy change? No, but hopefully different enough to keep him on his toes. Keep him here, in this moment with her.]

[ It's a routine Hei's slipped into out of ingrained expectation. It's in his nature to stake his claim first. But he's also been trained to keep to patterns that measure up to mainstream sexual propaganda, the unspoken chorale of This Is What You're Supposed To Do. Maybe it's boring Korra. Maybe she isn't in the mood for oral sex. Maybe she wants something different. He doesn't know. His thoughts feel thick, slow, rolling in and out like waves. Her physical cues and his, always so seamlessly clicking, are awash, suddenly, in a hot, muddled confusion. ]

[ Climbing onto the bed, up her body, he surges close, his mouth catching Korra's a little too roughly, kisses wet and hard as if he's desperately trying to press himself as close as he can possibly be, here in this narrow stifling room in this narrow stifling City that Hei -- hates. Hates. It's given him Pai, yes. But with her, it's also given him all the anxieties and ugliness that he'd once shoved behind safety-glass in his mind. The sight of Pai, the tones of her voice, her gaze, stir them out of the shadows like ghosts. He could never resent Pai for that. It's not her fault. But he does resent his own weakness at not being able to shove the specters aside. ]

[ He wants to tell Korra, I can't do this right now. But when he wrenches his mouth away from hers and drops his head to her shoulder, he pants. ] I'm glad you're here, [ instead. Truth, lie, it doesn't matter. Right now, she evokes reminders of no one he knows -- and he's grateful for that. ]

[She's stroking him slowly, with that twist he loves. His kisses hurt, but it's not like this is would be the first time. She's actually getting into it when he pulls away.

I'm glad you're here. The words should make her heart flutter, and truth be told, there's a queer little jump. But mostly, she's just concerned. He almost never makes emotional statements like that. On top of everything else that's going on tonight...it doesn't feel right.]

Okay, what's wrong?

[ Hei's hips rock in a restless, yet absent sort of way. His free hand is wrapped tight around Korra's so she doesn't withdraw her hand from his erection. The other hand slides a rough palm flat over her hip, brushing the ticklish tuft of hair between her thighs, then slipping between them. His fingers dip low into slick heat, pressing, stroking, circling. But it's clear, from the pressure, much like the way he kisses her again, that there's a calculated agenda behind this. Not affectionate – more strategic. A ceasefire. She asks, What's wrong?, but he doesn't want to answer. Doesn't know how to. He's glad she's here, he's told her so, but he doesn't quite know what he meant by it, or why he said it, only that he feels it, wants it. It's easier to focus on Korra, sprawled beside him on the bedspread that gives off a smell of chemical cleanliness. Easier to will himself not to think. The thing to do is to rush this along, to get to the part that he's both itching for yet irrationally dreading -- the actual fucking -- and then once that's done, he can slow it all down again, and enjoy Korra. ]

[ Not meeting her eyes, he says, ] It's nothing. [ Kisses her again, with a pushier edge, as an unstated I don't want to talk about it. ]

You always say that, and it never is. [It's hard to get the words out with the way he's kissing her, but she doesn't want to let this slide, regardless of his pushiness and that unspoken message. She clenches her legs tight to trap his fingers, and while she keeps stroking him, the touch is more soothing than sexy.]

Remember how you said we should talk more?

[ Hei squirms his trapped hand, the fingers caught in a delicious hot prison, sliding between Korra's moist lips, teasing her clit. But it's hard to be purposeful, the way she's staring at him. Her bright-blue gaze is a shiruken. He stays quiet for some time, his other hand still holding hers in a way he can't quite parse. Then, on a shuddering breath, he tightens his grip, so she lets him go. His erection seems to vibrate hot and twitchy in the coolish air. Aching. Christ, he aches. But instead of rolling her beneath him,feeding her rough kisses to shut her up, he closes his eyes. Closes them tight, and wrenches away from her. ]

[ Sprawled with his back to Korra, he doesn't curl up in a fetal position. The the lines of his body, of his face, are perfectly tense and straight -- even as all sight seems to leave his eyes. The same ugly feeling wells up inside him again, hollow and lonely and sordid. He wants to kick Korra out of bed. Wants her to disappear now. Or maybe that's what he wants for himself? Because, deep down, he knows what's disquieting him. Not Pai. Not Korra. Amber. ]

[ Back home, Amber is dead. Which is a knowledge he's carried for months. But that reality seems to crash in on him now, with the force of something heavy dropped on his head from a precipice. In some portion of his mind, the illusion of their time together is still ongoing, as if he's with her and Pai in a battlefield that is no more, in a continent that's been erased years ago. A trick of his mind he'd like to suppress -- but can't. Pai's earlier resentment, her behavior around Korra, it all reminded him of the impossible. Of things he'll never have again. ]

[ Exhaling in defeat, he says, very quietly, ] ...I can't stop thinking about something. That's all. [ Lame, and obscure, but he doesn't know what else to say. ]

[It hurts when he pulls away, yet there's a relief as well. He's closed off but not gone. She rolls onto her side and watches him as he struggles with something inside. It's tempting to reach out and soothe him with a gentle touch, but she knows that wouldn't be welcome. Her hand clutches the sheet between them instead as she listens.]

About what?

[ In the gloom between them, Korra's voice sounds both steady and terribly girlish. Sighing in exasperation, Hei lets his eyes slip shut again. He doesn't want to get into this. Not for his sake, but Korra's. She's already in a bruised frame of mind. Why poke weak-spots in her psyche by bringing up his ex .... girlfriend? Comrade? Lover? Mentor? Whatever the fuck Amber was to him. Maybe all those things, and at the same time, none. Swallowing, he pushes the thoughts aside. Stares at the window ahead, the light from the glass lighting up dust motes drifting in silver shoals through the air, eddying this way and that whenever the stillness of the room is disturbed. ]

[ Swallowing his bile down, he attempts to deliver himself calmly. ]

Someone ... important to me. Who I lost back home. [ He has an acute sense of how ludicrous this conversation is; how infantile and stupid. Just get it over with, he tells himself. He exhales, not angry with Korra anymore, but struck by how absurdly inappropriate the verb 'lose' is in this context, how coy and, at the same time, judgmental. As if he'd absentmindedly left Amber on a bus and she was still lying unclaimed in a lost property office somewhere. As if, when the rage inside him is ready for the kill, he'll 'lose' his sanity too, one day, like an umbrella. ]

[ Gritting his teeth, he forces the rest out. ] It's one of the reasons Pai is giving you attitude. [ One of the reasons. ] The three of us ... Pai, me and ... her. Amber. We were close. On the same team. Now Pai thinks I'm forgetting about her. Or trying to find a replacement. Neither of which are true.

[Amber. That must be the green-haired girl in those pictures she had seen. It's not hard for Korra to connect the dots. Amber was the girlfriend that the little sister actually liked. She can't say it doesn't hurt; she was already feeling vulnerable due to being naked and everything that went down with Chekov and Xing. But it's also nice to finally have some kind of hint what's going on in his head (and the explanation of Xing's behavior is a bonus).

The Neither of which are true helps.]

I'm sorry. [Matter-of-fact, because what else can she really say?] Is there something I can do?

[ Hei stares ahead with a dull, solid anger, his eyes like blue Bakelite. The exposure from his confession doesn't seem to crumple him further, but rather hardens his edges. Yet inside, his stomach swoops downwards, churning around a hundred recollections of Amber. Setting his jaw, he refuses to give in. Refuses too, to answer Korra's question for the moment. A sense of dark amusement and bitter fury sparks through him at her words. There are certain things that aren't subject to a I'm sorry. However well-meant, it just hangs limp and inadequate the moment it passes her lips. At the same time, he can't blame Korra. Her manner could so easily be frivolous. But all she is, Hei knows, is sweet. Radiating concern and affection like a little sun. ]

[ With a sigh, he wipes his dry palm across his equally dry face, then does a more thorough job with the edge of the bedsheet. As if trying to scrub something completely intangible away. Behind him, the heat from Korra's body seems to seep into the bed, to soak into him --irresistible. You hopeless idiot, Hei thinks. And, in the same breath. I want. I want. I want. ]

[ Rolling, he slips an arm around her waist, pulling her across the sheets and fitting her into the curve of his body. Burrowing his mouth into her hair, he kisses her neck, her ear, her lips, murmuring, ]

Stop talking about it. [ Both a quiet request, a demand, and an answer to her question. ]

[His answer doesn't surprise her. She's both relieved and disappointed. Sex is something she can do. She just wishes it wasn't the only thing she could do. Sometimes she feels like it's all she's good for anymore.

Don't think about it. She hums quietly and reaches down.]

No getting pushy, okay?

[She guides his hand between her legs and then takes hold of his erection.]

[ Sex isn't the only thing she can do. But it's the only brand of comfort Hei is willing to accept. He's not a talkative person. Certainly not an expressive one. There are so few things in his life that he wrings any reassurance from. Something tactile, solid, kinetic? That's his best choice. ]

[ And really ... Korra is helping him. Just by being her. Her name has been braided with a particular sensation in Hei's mind, he thinks, as she guides his hand between her thighs, as he shivers at the warm wrap of her fingers around him. Korra -- it seems to light up in his brain at exactly the wrong moment. Every time its syllables glint in his head it gives him the strangest sensation of having just dropped his weapons into an airlock -- or as if he's staggering to remain upright, sanity and logic rolling away from him like coins, unsure what he should run after first. He kisses her harder, licks into her mouth. Korra. Every time he thinks it, it makes him want to dig his fingers into something, out of a sheer desire to feel the world closer to him -- or to hang on for dear life, afraid to fall off the earth's skin. He satisfies himself by clutching at a curving hipbone and at dark spilling hair which don't belong to him, his body rippling against hers. ]

[ When he lifts his head, his gaze is hazy but fond. No more shutters behind his eyes. Circling a thumb around her clit, he bites lightly at her lower-lip. ]

What do you want?

[ A reprise of his earlier question. He isn't in the mood for pushy anymore. If anything, he wants her to climb on top of him, to ride him until his body quakes and all thought deliquesces from his mind. ]

[The look in his eyes is a relief, and she doesn't answer at first, instead releasing the last of her tension into a kiss.]

I want you to let go of control. [Not lose control. She's not looking for something hot & frenetic right now. Nor is she looking for their usual competition to see who can drive the other more wild, who can build the bigger explosion. Hei usually takes the lead in their encounters -- stripping her first, bringing her off first, deciding when to slip inside. He'll yield to her input, but it's always that: yielding. Temporarily loosening the reins. It doesn't bother Korra; it doesn't even strike her as weird. She's used to fighting for control of her life. She can't really imagine life otherwise.

Honestly, she's not sure what she means by those words, only that they feel right. So does leaning in to kiss him again. She strokes him slowly, with those twists he loves, but she's not trying to bring him off, nor is she trying to tease him. It's just a touch that feels good.]

[ The soft slide of her lips on his makes Hei feel ... vertiginous. Like he's on a swing. Like he might have a bad fall. ]

[ Let go of control. A shiver climbs up his spine, distinct as icy fingers spidering up the arch. He's not sure if it's from her words, or the way her hand glides fluidly up and down his erection. Letting go of control or losing it -- it's all the same to Hei. A liability. It inspires the same profound dread as insanity, or helplessness, or ... love. The idea of being some kind of mindless bundle of emotion -- fuck, he couldn't stomach it. The degeneration into something insensate ... and being a slave to it ... ]

I --

[ He has no idea what to say. In many ways, Hei is his control. It's impossible to see through his smokescreens and illusions into the essential him. Someone with restraint like that, they learn brilliant ways to hide it and strategies for getting through life despite it. All his independence and self-absorption, all his steely resolve and focus -- they're not him. They're the bracing that hides the bitter shadow of a person within. ]

[ Licking his dry lips, he buries his mouth against the crook of Korra's neck. Murmurs, without meeting her gaze. ]

Korra. I'm ... all about control. If I didn't have it, I'd never want to be there to see what I'd look like without it. [ It's why he shuts down during emotional scenes. Why he clocks out during and after sex. He glances at her then, to look into her eyes, just the briefest flicker of blue. ] I'm not sure ... I trust you. I don't think you trust me, either. But you need to listen. We're all animals, all of us. We think we're so smart -- masters of our destinies. We lie to ourselves that we have control. But if it doesn't rain, we die of thirst. If it floods, we drown. And when we walk down the street, thinking how in control we are, some idiot with a gun blows us away by accident. We have very little control -- over very little things. [ A beat, before he swallows. ] That's why the control I have matters so much. It's all I've had, sometimes. Without it... I'm just nothing. When I come, I'm nothing. [ Not Nothing as in worthless. Hei knows the exact measure of his worth better than anyone. He means Nothing as just that. Nothingness. A cipher. He's never said it before, not even to Amber or Pai; never really put a finger on the fear. Now that he has, it feels worse. ]

[ Shutting his eyes, he concludes, calm and flat. ] Control isn't existence, though. They're different things. If that's what you want ... [ He is tense, planted in place against her, motionless. ] I'll try, all right? But some things can't be solved in a few minutes.

[No end to the surprises this evening.

He doesn't meet her eyes, and she doesn't try to make him, just continues stroking him gently -- soothing, thoughtful. She understands what he means. It's not just because of Marie. She had been the most powerful person in her world, but her time in Republic City showed her how little that meant. Living in the City has only rubbed that in more. Control is an illusion; the illusion makes it even more precious.

If that's what you want, I'll try. Words she never expected to hear from him, and they mean more to her than she can say. She pulls back so she can kiss him hard, trying to put everything she's feeling into it.

She pulls back with a strangled gasp, and rests her head against his.]

I know. It's okay. [She presses more little kisses against his face. Her body rubs against his, filing her with a tingly warmth, but she doesn't try to up the heat, or change the pace of her hand around him.] Just try to enjoy this.

[ Out of all his miscalculations -- some choreographed, some not -- Hei's never been self-indulgent enough to think they were bad ideas. No, maybe not self-indulgent. Maybe he'd just never given a fuck before, because he's designed to overcome any catastrophe, to turn the impossible into the possible. He's always transmogrified his mistakes into renewed options. Even his contingency plans have extra contingency plans. But right now, even as Hei lifts a hand to cup Korra's jaw -- not like something fragile but something precious that even his calculated fingers have no place holding -- he's thinking this is a bad idea. That it should be like it always is. They should stop talking. They should just fuck -- shields up and minds switched off; Korra should go home; Hei should head for work Underground. ]

[ But it's just -- overwhelming, the way Korra kisses him. A heat that spikes a shiver through him, makes him seize her tighter, bring her mouth deeper to his. All her kisses, he thinks, are the opposite of his. Eloquent. Sincere. She tells herself to him with kisses. He tries to match her, and it's strangely tentative. Lets her taste his yearning, his patience -- because when is Hei ever patient? He gasps when they finally break, catching up on air. Smoothes her tangled hair under his hands, and thinks Why the hell not? Because if this falls to shit too, it won't be the first time he's been ripped apart and had to rebuild everything from scratch. ]

Do not use this against me.

[ And who knows if that's a plea or a threat or a genuine prayer because Hei's too busy leaning in again, angling his chin as he brushes his lips softly against hers. Not demanding, not desire-hot; just jittery and unsure, a gentle kind of press. ]

[Her kiss is a promise, easy to make because she doesn't know how she would. She lacks the cunning and the emotional awareness to deliberately inflict that kind of damage, even if she wanted to. Which she might. Korra isn't above that kind of petty violence, and she embraces the "eye for an eye" mentality. He's damaged her heart enough that she wouldn't mind being able to do the same.

But right now, those thoughts are the furthest thing from her mind. The only thing she wants is to soothe his uncertainty and longing. She cups his cheek in her hand and deepens the kiss.]

[ If she resolves to damage him -- today, tomorrow a week from now -- he'll kill her. It's not even a question of I wish it didn't come to this and Why did she do it?. He will -- because the way she's making him feel right now ... It's too frightening. Too risky. His skin fizzes, his stomach is a plane-crash, all the hairs on his body are lit fuses, and he can taste the adrenaline in his mouth. His whole body is vibrating with the sick song of the battlefield -- that heart-stopping moment where the blades slice into arteries, where the bullets scrape vital organs. ]

[ Not exposed. Not compromised. Mid-defeat and ready to die. How would BK201 forgive that kind of betrayal? Why would he forgive it? ]

[ Right now, he forces it from his mind. Too busy with Korra. Kissing her, actually. Kissing her deeply and with his mouth open, and with a kind of relief crashing over him. And then he is panting, panting into the side of her throat like he hasn't panted in years, if he's ever panted like this before. His sternum is exploding in something like pain. Carefully, he rolls over, taking her with him, so she's sprawled on his chest. Pulls the ties out of Korra's hair and lets it fall across their faces in a sheath of dark waves. ]

[ Smoothing her hair back with both hands, he passes his arms around her. There's a rustle and skitter of her bra coming off and hitting the floor, and then Hei is dragging Korra tighter into place atop him, leaning up hungrily to mouth at one of her nipples. Her breasts overspill his hands, soft and dark, and he is nuzzling, biting and sucking, with the thud of her heart just inches away from his face. He pushes his stubbled cheek along one smooth, warm side-swell, swallows hard around a raspy noise he doesn't fully understand, exhaling it into the damp valley between Korra's breasts. ]

[She hums as he rolls her over, warm and contented. Pleased that he put her on top when he could have so easily pinned her down. He really is trying, and she needs to try too.

She shifts, settling her knees on either side of his waist. His mouth on her breasts sends spikes of pleasure through her body, drawing out little moans. Everything is hot and hungry but peaceful too. Like they aren't in a rush to get anywhere. Like they aren't playing any games. They're just touching and enjoying each other. Every bite, every lick, every grind done without an agenda, but just because it feels good. Each touch is a simple fact. I like you. This feels good.]

[ If any other person touched him this way -- transmitted those simple messages against his skin -- Hei would kill them. Not exactly because he sees it as fragile and not because he sees it as a battle of worth, but because this kind of giving comes with its own price, and that's something Hei has never wanted, not enough room in the hollow space of his chest. But right now, it makes something hot and glowing rise up inside him like a ball through water, rushing past resistance and horror and mistrust to pop up high into the clear air. It makes him exhale quietly, a gratified murmur on the tip of his tongue. ]

[ (Something that keeps him grounded. Makes it genuine. New and unfamiliar, but he's not backing away.) ]

[ His face presses against Korra's body; he breathes in skin instead of air. His erection is a wet kiss against her belly; hands sliding up and down her back, her arms and breasts, reaching to cup her backside, fingers sliding between the cleft, then caressing her thighs, as if reacquainting himself with her contours, her heat. No words or glances, but that isn't to say it's not scarily intimate. It feels more so for the stark lack of all the standard moves that come with foreplay. Slowly, he slides and grinds and molds his body into the gaps and hollows of her flesh and, each time he moves, new areas of ingress appear that need to be filled. ]

[ His eyes are closed as his bristly jaw scrapes against her breast, moments before his hot mouth seals around her nipple, sucking hard. One arm wraps around her hips as his fingers tease her from behind, the thumb stroking along the inside of her thigh, before his hand curls forward, sliding a wet finger into her body, crooking it inside her with slow, minimal strokes. ]

Hnnnnnn. [She settles back on her knees, partly to encourage his fingers to go deeper, partly to free up her own arms to explore his body. She runs her hands down his chest, giving his nipples a little twist just because she can. She knows he doesn't feel much there. Moving down from his chest, she traces his abdomen, running her fingers along the edge of each muscle and bone.

She loves his body. She loves its flexibility, its agility, its deceptive strength. She likes how he hides it behind baggy clothes, as though the truth of it is a secret just for her. She loves the scars that cover his skin, proof that his strength isn't just for show, that this body isn't just a hobby. (Proof also that he has a reason for his jagged edges, and he wasn't just born cruel.) She trails slow kisses down his neck and shoulders, choosing usual places -- the back of his neck, between his collarbones, just above his armpits -- to leave little bite marks.]

[ At the sound of her cry, an odd adolescent feeling creeps over Hei: the breathiness, the quivering, the raging desire to push his hips against her, to align their bodies and sink into her. But he doesn't. Doesn't amp up the friction either -- not beyond anything that isn't strictly soothing. It isn't as if he isn't enjoying himself; as Korra presses herself against him, his erection thrums with a reedy, helpless pulse against her skin. But he doesn't try to snatch control, either. Instead he fluidly pushes a second finger into Korra to join the first, simultaneously stretching her wider and moving deeper. Enough to make her body take a nervy-vervy notice, but nowhere near enough to take her over the edge. ]

[ Korra's fingers and mouth are hot against his skin. A sharp twitch takes him with each kiss, each bite. His pulse thunders. Every inch of him waking up and reaching, like climbing weeds, toward sensation. There is a strange heat in her touch, as if she is trying to press some sort of secret message into his body. The air Hei drags sharply down into his lungs seems, in contrast, icy cold, and he stares at their dovetailing light-dark limbs and the messy hair fanned around him, the warmth bleeding between them, trying to understand how the distance between two people can be so easily and abruptly closed. ]

[ It's a lesson in his scars that those who are built the way they are only understand the world as sets of rules that can be broken. Bent. Upturned and torn, put back together however it may suit them. But none of that applies here. Circling his fingers against the slick heat between Korra's thighs, her mouth and hands coaxing shudders from his body, he pitches upward to press a kiss, tenderly, at the pulsepoint at her neck. ]

Korra...

[ Not a demand. Not Faster or Harder or More. He says her name softly; exhales it at leisure over his tongue. Korra, sounding like a noise of both affection and satisfaction. ]

[At the sound of her name, she looks down at Hei and smiles. Presses a quick kiss to his lips before rolling off of him onto her side. Her body cries out in protest as his fingers inevitably slide out of her, but she ignores it, knowing he'll be touching her again soon enough. She wriggles so that his one arm is wrapped around her and she can rest her head on his shoulder; "cuddling" by any other name. But her real purpose had been to take hold of his erection again, caress it slowly with soft-hard fingers. She's in no rush to get him off, or to get off herself, but a part of her thinks how nice it would be to come like this.]

[ There's an almost incomprehensible stutter of protest when Korra rolls off him. Hard physical arousal thumps between Hei's thighs at the loss of her warmth. A belly-ache of need. When she nestles close again, he maneuvers until they're face to face, legs intertwined so she can feel the sharpness of his hipbone pressed against her sex, gently splaying the wet lips apart. In her curled hand, his erection is heavy, slick-tipped, Korra's fading bite-marks still stinging on his skin. He can hardly catch his breath. The entire surface of his body is burning from the friction. ]

[ Eyes shut, he buries his mouth in her neck, a quiet, broken sound struggling out of his throat. One hand starfishes at the hollow of her back, holding her close, while the other creeps between her legs again. His fingers slither back and forth over her clit, then down to the opening, feeling like there's river there and it has a course; it tells him what path to take, a sweet declivity made for his fingers or cock. Humming, he kisses the corner of Korra's throat and shoulder with an open mouth, down her breasts then up again with soft, mouthing movements. Each breath makes his chest shudder, heart trying to hammer at his ribcage. ]

[ Sucking Korra's lower-lip between his teeth, he breathes, ]

Fuck me.

[ Not Now and not I want it. He sounds almost like he's obtaining permission. His control is already tenuous, mind scrubbed raw. If she keeps this up, he's going to lose it and spill right in the hollow of her hip. ]

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