[ There are times when knowledge doesn't set you free; it restricts. This is one of them. ]
[ Hei has no idea what aspects of his sex-life she's been privy to. But he can sense how it's dampened the fizzle of her excitement. Even as she rocks against the heel of his hand, his fingers strumming the tight plumpness of her clit, feeling how slick she is for him, he's aware of a certain distance. A brittleness almost like caution. It's his fault, he knows. The triggers exist all across his psyche, his body -- razor-tipped springs waiting to loose. They're the kind of details that crackle with momentum in your head, but fall limp and obscure the moment you speak them. So he never does. ]
[ But it's unfair that Korra should suffer for them, too. He wishes he could give her free reign over his body. Allow her to be as wild as wicked as she pleases. But there's no trusting his own reactions. No gauging the mental minefields that are as blindsiding to him as those he's with. ]
[ So he hauls her up in one arm, pitching his weight so she's sprawled back across the mattress. So he's half-lying on her, half-hovering over her. His eyes are burning-bright and his lips are parted, but there's no aggression in his body's lineaments. The idea of taking a wrong step with Korra, of dampening that hypnotic flicker in her eyes when he kisses her, of hurting her, is like a blow to the sternum. ]
[ With a quiet uncertainty, as if he's trying to calibrate how far his lenience extends, he says, ]
Don't worry about holding back. You want me to tire you out, right?
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Date: 2014-11-12 11:49 pm (UTC)[ Hei has no idea what aspects of his sex-life she's been privy to. But he can sense how it's dampened the fizzle of her excitement. Even as she rocks against the heel of his hand, his fingers strumming the tight plumpness of her clit, feeling how slick she is for him, he's aware of a certain distance. A brittleness almost like caution. It's his fault, he knows. The triggers exist all across his psyche, his body -- razor-tipped springs waiting to loose. They're the kind of details that crackle with momentum in your head, but fall limp and obscure the moment you speak them. So he never does. ]
[ But it's unfair that Korra should suffer for them, too. He wishes he could give her free reign over his body. Allow her to be as wild as wicked as she pleases. But there's no trusting his own reactions. No gauging the mental minefields that are as blindsiding to him as those he's with. ]
[ So he hauls her up in one arm, pitching his weight so she's sprawled back across the mattress. So he's half-lying on her, half-hovering over her. His eyes are burning-bright and his lips are parted, but there's no aggression in his body's lineaments. The idea of taking a wrong step with Korra, of dampening that hypnotic flicker in her eyes when he kisses her, of hurting her, is like a blow to the sternum. ]
[ With a quiet uncertainty, as if he's trying to calibrate how far his lenience extends, he says, ]
Don't worry about holding back. You want me to tire you out, right?