across time & space

[anatural]

WHO: Hei & Korra
WHAT: Hei’s been missing for years.

[Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? As Korra watches Mako walk down the beach path, she kind of regrets telling him she was fine. The air feels a lot chillier without his companionable warmth. But he's no better at comfort sex than Bolin is; they're both too romantic. Of all her friends, Asami's the only one who really understands the occasional need for intimacy without its attendant baggage. Too bad Asami's out of town.

Korra smiles and shakes her head as she opens the front door. It doesn't matter. Nights like this are why she remodeled the house so Naga could come inside. The polar bear dog's warm, solid presence is like a campfire, a soft blanket, and hot tea all in one affectionate package.

Speaking of — Naga pokes her head out of the bedroom door and whines a question.]

I'm sorry, girl. She didn't make it. [Even with Korra to stabilize her wounds and the best vet in Republic City, Cat's injuries from the hit & run accident were too severe.

One by one, everything that connects her to Hei is vanishing. A few months after he was officially declared dead, Yin went missing. Her black cat died, and some guy with a poodlebird from Future Industries took all the computer equipment. She's had to renovate the house a few times, due to storms and other emergencies. And now Cat.

It makes Korra feel sad, but mostly it makes her feel old. The normal bumps and pains that occur over a lifetime have been crammed into less than a decade; she's still a few years shy of thirty, but she feels like she's her mother's age sometimes.

Naga nuzzles her shoulder comfortingly, and Korra takes the invitation to wrap her arms around her and bury her face in the polar bear dog's fur.]

I'm tired of losing people.

Comments

<33

[mortemscintilla]

[ You can shower when I'm done with you. Hei almost says it aloud. But he lightly bites his tongue and clasps her closer. Nuzzles the feathery heap of her hair, inhaling her scent, as his hands slide along her waist, the sweet solidity of her hips, the skin-warmed fabric tingling across his palms and suffusing him with a drugged, lax wine of bittersweet happiness. But also a desire that seems to transcend simple arousal and satiety. ]

[ He's waited almost a year, drifting like a cosmic dust-mote through space, to be near her again. Now that he is, fifteen minutes or fifteen hours of waiting don't make a difference. Not as long as they culminate with her being close to him, so he can greedily sink into all of her deliciousness that his throbbing body now demands, hopefully with nothing of their usual insecurities and grief to cloud the experience. ]

[ He kisses the soft rim of her ear, before detaching, ]

Whatever you need.

[ Space. Slowness. She seems jittery, clearly excited, but full of apprehension too -- and it makes him cautious in turn. ]

[anatural]

[She squeezes his hand and heads into the bathroom. She feels tingly and aware of her body in a way she hasn't been for awhile as she strips out of her clothes. Excitement. Not just need, not just tension, but actual excitement. And nervousness. She hasn't been nervous about sex in a long time. It's been perfunctory and utilitarian.

She resists the urge to touch herself, more out of self-consciousness than any kind of plan or necessity. Hesitates when she gets out of the shower — towel or clothes back on? Back on.

Clean, tingly, re-dressed, she heads back out.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ What Hei feels isn't nervousness. But he's aware of his body humming with a zitzing energy like before a fight, a thrum just below the surface of his skin. They've rarely done this, he and Korra. Never let events unfold at such a sweet and decorous pace. Every encounter has been fed by a propulsive physical hunger that's always escalated quickly, giving way to messy kisses, incoherent words, torn clothes, bruises and rattling furniture ]

[ This ... is more like Civilian Dating 101. It is so far away from anything he's ever remotely done, yet the anticipation, the refusal to jump headlong into disaster, is so very near to what he simply, burstingly, feels. ]

[ While she showers, he doesn't wait in the bedroom. He prowls through the house as if on a reconnaissance run, gauging changes in the layout, any structural or tactical weakpoints, any hint that the house is less than the foolproof vault it was when he'd first layered it with security systems, special proofing for the windows, state of the art locks, meticulously-placed alarms. In his absence, Korra hasn't kept up the maintenance. But that's no surprise. She's never been as paranoid as he is. ]

[ If anything, the lax security is a sign. Even if she's seen plenty of danger these three years, it hasn't followed her home. ]

[ When Korra comes back out, he isn't in bed. He's sitting next to the worktable where he'd usually tinkered on new weapons -- cross-legged on a chair in the way that only a bendy, limber man can achieve, facing the door, reading a dusty volume of Airbender koans. The blinds are drawn, and the room takes on an underwater grayness, carved here and there by glittery impossibly thin threads of sunlight. ]

[ In the moment Korra drifts in, Hei looks up from the parchment-fine page to capture a perfect, heightened vision of her in which the familiar and unfamiliar mixes: hair a short fluffy tumble, the cut of her face sleeker, but with those same burning-blue eyes. It may eventually be possible for him to look at Korra and see her only as she is in the present moment. But right now he sees all the Korras. The whole history of her, playing out in the semi-darkness, around the woman breathing softly in front of him. ]

[ There's a blink, his gaze unfocused, almost rueful. Then, with a surge of something like collapsed restraint he reaches out for her hand, desperate to keep hold of her this time. ]

[anatural]

[It's for a cute moment, snuggling up on his lap after he tugs her hand. But she stops when her legs press against against his (though she won't resist if he tugs her down).]

It's kind of surreal. I didn't think I'd see you at this table again.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He doesn't tug her. But he puts the book down and his feet on the floor, opening himself up to her, his body swaying against her warmth as if magnetized on a deep and nuclear level. It's not much of an embrace; his free arm is a loose curl around her waist, his head slumped against her torso the way he might slump against a wall, forehead to breastbone, eyes shut and stomach fluttering. Yet it's so familiar, so uncannily good, he feels as if he's opened some long unseen Portuguese book, and can parse out the complex text without a dictionary. ]

[ At her words, he swallows dryly, lips tracing the slope of her belly, the fabric hot from her skin. ]

For you, it's been a while. But ... not so much for me. Time's supposed to dilate when you're in space. It's faster when you're away from a large mass, like a planet. Not slower. Except that's what's happened to me. [ Temporal anomalies. He'sure the bright minds on the Enterprise would be piqued. Chekov especially. He wonders what the kid is up to right now. ]

[ Quieter, an almost imperceptible catch in his words, like he's unused to the honesty, ]

Everything is so strange. How can ... you even want this anymore?

[anatural]

[Korra blinks, arousal muffled by confusion. It's been awhile, Hei, but you should really know better than to hit her with weird confusing science information and then ask her deeply emotional questions. Particularly while touching her.]

What do you mean?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Hugs her waist closer, cradling soft handfuls of her weight, and rubs his cheek against her belly. Something hot scalds the back of his eyes, even as his throat briefly closes up against words, against breath. How can he explain, that after three years apart, at least for Korra, he's incredulous that she still wants this. That whatever she felt for him before he'd been snatched away, is still inside her. Still real. Comprehension of other people's emotions is always fleeting -- he'd figured that out a while ago -- but with those you love most -- and he loves her terribly -- it ought to be possible to, if not know one another, at least get a good glimpse. ]

[ Except he can't feel anything beyond his own gut-clenching anxiety. Korra is so close, right up against him. So familiar. Yet the sensory vividness is so strong it's almost unreal. Or too real. Does that make any sense? ]

[ Fuck, he has to stop overthinking this. Shouldn't think at all. Nothing good comes of it. ]

[ He glances up at her then, his palms sliding up, resting looped around her neck, one hand threading through her hair. ]

[ Softly, ]

I guess ... it's just a surprise. That I'd turn up in three years to find you're still thinking about me after all this time. I worry it's just you being surprised to see me. Like ... nostalgia.

[anatural]

...you're an idiot. [Said with mild disbelief and affection.] We were together for what, eight years? You don't just forget that.

[She tugs him up and towards the bedroom.] Come on.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Eight years. He can feel his thoughts galloping inside. Resistance and uncertainty, making a united stand, poising him to break and run, or collapse. He's quite for a long moment, his hand lax but somehow heavy as she tugs. ]

[ But then a sound escapes him, halfway between a huff and chuckle -- a release of tension even as he gathers his self-possession. She hasn't changed. To her, the extraneous details don't matter. As if a leap through the space-time continuum is nothing between them. As if they're fused, from their years spent together, the atoms and molecules between them sustaining a private current of intimacy during their time apart. ]

[ He wouldn't credit it. But the way she's drawing him toward the bedroom feels like a lifesaving handhold, stopping his decent into utter desolation. His mind is percolating with worries and what-ifs. That's how it's designed: it won't stop. But as long as he has her attention, some sort of attention, he knows he'll be all right. ]

[ He follows her into the bedroom, awkward but unfaltering. Even before he's crossed the threshold, he's right up tight behind her, feet on either side of her, the cool length of him pressing close with his hands on her shoulders, hungrily mouthing her nape through the fluffy heap of her hair. He yearns to go slowly, but after so much cautious postponement and rationalization, he can't surf the wave of his want. He's drowning in it, submerging inch by inch. ]

[anatural]

[It's not nothing. It's crazy. Surreal. Disorienting. It's changed everything. But it doesn't make them strangers. (Even if it did... she's had sex with a few total strangers.)

She's regretting pretty hard the decision to put her clothes back on after the shower as they awkwardly waltz onto the bed. She's wearing her getaway underwear at least (the kind that doesn't involve a lot of unwrapping to get off, courtesy of Asami). Still, it would be really nice if they could skip the whole awkward getting-your-clothes-off stage and jump right into skin-on-skin. He's making it awfully hard to take this slow & sweet.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei can't pretend at slow and sweet, even as everything in him struggles for the anchor of control, so as to be able to remember later his first glimpse of Korra's nakedness, Korra who will be changed by three years, no doubt, but who is still Korra - his first whiff of her long-remembered aromas, the exact first touch of his mouth to her radiant uncovered skin. He can't afford to botch this up. Especially not after that awful time in the City, when he'd -- ]

[ His mind shies from the memory as if from a jarring blow. She has one knee on the mattress, and he's so close to her he's amazed she can't feel him on every upraised hair of her nape. He clasps her tight, fevery-hot with impatience, face buried in her hair. With one hand, he gathers it off her neck, laying moist kisses in a tracery along her hairline, to her jaw, her cheek, nudging and then connecting to her mouth. He's fully-dressed but he feels naked, his erection obvious through his old jeans. ]

[ When he breaks away and turns her, it's with unsteady hands. Wordlessly, he guides her warm fingers, threaded with his cold ones, to hook into the hot space between his shirt and waistband. Inviting her to encroach his territory, familiar and non-hostile, to undress him before he gets too caught up in stripping every morsel of fabric off her. To take as much time as she -- they -- need to, because he can't trust himself to navigate this successfully on his own. ]

[anatural]

[Invitation accepted! Korra smiles and quickly unbuttons his shirt — as quickly as she can, anyway, considering this shirt is one of his leftovers from the City and there are many shirts with buttons like it in Republic City.]

Your shirts take too much work. [It's a half-hearted complaint as she reaches the last button and slides it off his shoulders. He's changed so little in three years (his whole spiel about time and gravity and whatever being not understood and therefore completely forgotten). She kisses her way down his chest as her hands then get to work on his pants.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei lets her tackle the buttons. When the shirt gapes, he shrugs it off and lets it fall to the floor. Echoes of the familiar weave with the strange -- her usual girlish banter, the spicysweet impatience vibrating off her, and his own dry-mouthed anxiety. His expression is calm but inside his nerves are chewing themselves to pieces. ]

[ Soft hair brushes against the underside of his chin and jaw; when she kisses her way down his chest, he sucks in his breath, fighting to keep from grabbing Korra with the bruising bite of his desire. It's true, he hasn't changed much in his year on the Enterprise. His body has just fleshed out a few degrees: thicker striations across the chest and marbling on the delts, lats flaring in a noticeable cobra's hood. There was so little to do on the ship -- he'd either spent his time swimming or pounding through newly-learnt katas in the gym until every joint rolled smooth in its socket -- at least when he wasn't poring over the shimmering multi-dimensional charts of the universe with Chekov, or stewing in a corner at the bridge, part uneasy guest, part dangerous prisoner, the entire atmosphere like a noisy grinding machine gnawing at his nerves, until Spock would stiltedly ask if he wanted to play kal-toh. ]

[ The memory nearly uncurls a smile from him now. He drops his hands, fingers furling around Korra's wrists, re-directing her efforts away from the catch of his trousers. He kisses her palms, one then the other, exploring the fingers that are still like peachy quinquefoliate petals, but that have also evolved into unpretentious weapons, smooth and slender, but toughened by years of use, delicately callused. ]

[ He lets them go, with a lingering kiss on their fingertips. Drops his own hands to disclose himself, shedding his jeans, the belt buckle clanking on the floor, and stepping out of them to circle her close, letting her feel the sharp outline of his cock in the boxers. His fingers -- his whole body -- feel so cold. Hellish cold, as if the time in space has turned his inner temperature wonky. He's half certain she'll cry out in pain if he touches her -- but he can't bear to wrench away. ]

[anatural]

[It's like a reversal of the first night together in the shed. Except while his skin feels almost worryingly cold, his cock feels like it's burning a hole through his boxers.]

Don't stop there. [She pulls her top over her head, a little embarrassed as she notices just how far her nipples are poking out through the thin fabric. she starts to fold her shirt and set it neatly aside – something which Hei used to do, but the habit of which she picked up from Asami.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ There's a stirring of curiosity when she folds her shirt -- Where did she pick that up? But the sight of her, in gorgeous, bright-eyed disarray, rolls up his spine and ignites in his brain like fire racing across a rope, so it's impossible to care. He pushes out of his boxers, kicks them away in a gesture that's both gauche and antsy. His cock feels beestung, stiffly upright and tucked against his belly; he is breathing in slow, jittery-edged inhales, like something hurts under the surface of his skin, and he needs -- oh fuck. ]

[ He reaches out, his hand seizing the fluffy spill of Korra's hair, clasping the curve of her skull to jerk her nearer. She still has too many layers of clothes on; her thin underwear -- not a sarashi, thank god for small favors -- clings like a kiss and tantalizingly empurples her nipples, her breasts seeming to heave into the filling fabric, the tips puckered as though to slip between the tug of his lips. ]

[ Passing his arms around her, he finds the clasp, at her back, and undoes it with shaky but unfaltering fingers. Peels the slip up and overhead, her hair clinging to the soft fabric, before bowing his head to bury his face between her breasts, openmouthed, his hands coming up to cradle them. They overfill his palms, hot, heavy, as delicious as ever. He kneads them gently before coasting his hands lower, fingers hooking into her waistband to wrench down her trousers. He lets them puddle at her feet, holding her by the hips. Lips the edge of her panties, tugging them down far enough to reveal her pubic patch, of which he takes a deep appreciative inhalation -- before pressing his mouth into the cleft of her thighs with a hungry vibrating groan. ]

[ The scent of her, the taste, races through him in a tidal wave of recollection. He'd been achingly hard since shucking his clothes, but all of a sudden he is steel. ]

[anatural]

[He's moving almost dizzyingly fast, and Korra's not sure whether it's more flattering or overwhelming. It's certainly a stark contrast to the careful pace she's taken with everyone else she's bedded in the past three years.]

Hold up. [The words come out more like a cry as he mouths between her legs. If he wanted to give her oral while she remained standing, he could at least give her a wall to lean against. She falls back on the bed with a thud and rocks her hips encouragingly... Yet there's also a shyness in how narrowly she spreads her legs. She's not quite the same girl who would fall open for him at a single look; she needs a little coaxing.] 

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei lets her spill back across the bed. Nudges the discarded heap of their clothes with his foot, before kneeling at the edge of the bed. His expression is Sphinxish: half-lidded and intent, no trace of self-consciousness remaining. Trepidation had tamped down his desire. But that's gone now, his skin tingling, a fire ignited beneath the surface by Korra's touch and taste, her helpless wavering words that feel like kisses to his ear. ]

[ For a moment, drawing in slow scoops of air, he regards her, reveling in the smooth hot expanse of dark skin, the sweet lushness of her body, cataloging subtle differences, taking note of the fresh scars littered here and there, as if something hot has tumbled from the sky and scalded her faintly -- her entire body like the stirring pages of an illustrated storybook. All told, it's not a terrible tale. She's seen some action in his absence, but she isn't battle-marked and overwrought from terrible tension piling up everywhere. Nor is she anhedonically thin, the thinness he didn't like, that when she got that way during her illness, he'd started cooking slathers of heavy dishes for her, everything sweet and fatty and fried. ]

[ The surface changes are ignorable. It's her body-language that's different -- inviting, yet so shy, like the kind of bride he'd always imagined, disbelievingly, that men had in a different century, before hemlines had gone from instep to kneecap to thigh to absolute nonexistence. It's hard to tell if the diffidence is something she's acquired during his absence -- or if it's exclusive to him. ]

[ Hei doesn't know. His brain boils, a stew of lust and tenderness. He doesn't force her knees wide. Still holding her hips, he dips instead between her legs to kiss her belly, tonguing her navel, teasing her sensitive inner thighs. ]

[ Mouthing the hard knobble of her hipbone, he meets her gaze across the line of her body, his eyes an unflinching soft blue. ]

Tell me, [ he murmurs. ] If you want me to stop, or slow down. Or whatever. Just tell me.

[ Because the last thing he wants is a repeat of that ugly night in the City -- full of misconstrual and force and destructive flames of impulse. ]

[anatural]

[She sits up a little, just enough to stroke his hair.] Just take it slow. We've got time. [She'd been ready to go hard, fast, & quick earlier, but now... now she wants to take their time. Having him back, being together like this, is wonderful but surreal.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ We've got time. ]

[ Do they? Three years, swallowed up into the ether. He's amazed she still wants him, amazed his presence doesn't make her memories careen in a way that skirts the sickening. It does for him. Everything is so fucking precarious. He wants to show her how much he's missed her, but he's afraid of regressing to his usual flash-bang pace, unable to sort out his feelings from the numbness he's laid over them in order to endure the long journey in space. It's too much like right after he'd first hooked up with Korra. When going thorough the motions of living made his psyche blur into nothingness for him -- and he needed a sharp edge of violence and sex to throw himself against in order to keep the outlines alive. ]

[ Now, here, he's wary of doing the same thing. Wary of being unable to express that, You make me feel something hard and big and solid and real. It's ripping me apart so fast I need to cast it off onto you. ]

[ Forcibly, he smooths out his inhales and exhales. Take it slow. He tries. Crawling across her, a heap of fast-twitch muscle and damp weight, he catches her head, cradling it in widespread fingers to kiss her. Heat spikes low in the pit of his belly; he forces the desire to soften. ]

Maybe ... I should've waited ... when I got back. [ Words spoken between kisses, as soft and strangely shy as the warm nuzzle of his lips. ] Given you time to decide what you wanted. Only I missed you. So much.

[anatural]

[Mmmm, kisses. Korra wraps her arms around his neck and hums encouragingly.]

I want this. [It feels so good, so right, in ways that the (very good) sex she's had with other people just hasn't. She hooks a leg around his and presses her body against his erection.] I've missed you too. I never stopped. [Even after she stopped thinking about him every single day. Even after she stopped crying and/or destroying things when something reminded her of him. Grief doesn't end; it changes.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Cradled against her body, all buttery warmth, Hei exhales a noise into the kiss -- a small purl of something both goodnatured and gratified. (Fond, too, no matter how much things aren't perhaps what they used to be). The responsibility of her, of giving her what she needs, of doing his best to mend the rift, is so huge, it daunts him, sends his mind reeling off into icy absence. But her heat, her scent, those soft words, all act like little stitches binding him to the moment. Urging him not to look backward or forward -- but melt into the Now. ]

[ And in the now, inrushing echoes of their every encounter sweep over him with delicious vividness, lucid tactile memories of the her body, the feel and flavor of her, hypnotically warm flesh working greedily against his own. He can have that again, he thinks -- almost shattered with delight at the stupidly obvious realization. Unknowingly, he is stirring against her, loving the velvety-hot feel of her belly -- the way it makes his dick flare with a full-blooded throb. His tongue traces hers, flicking across her teeth, the tip of her nose, the whorl of her ear, the point of her jaw. Fuck, he wants his cock inside her -- but he also wants this to go on forever, because he's afraid that once he's inside her, he'll come immediately. ]

[ Finally, half distraction, half fevery-minded indulgence, he cups both of her breasts. Squeezes with a soft encompassing possessiveness that is gentle, but also rough. He dusts them with kisses, bestowing delicate bites to her nipples, scraping the tender undersides with his sandpapery cheek -- before pressing them together to draw both the pebbly tips into his wide-open mouth, humming as his erection jerks with a live-wire ache. ]

[anatural]

[He's not the only one with a live-wire ache... or the responsibility of closing the gap between them. She's not the prize he works towards or the paycheck he earns; she's an equal partner in this relationship. They both need to communicate and make some room for each other in the lives & habits they developed alone.

The actual work of a relationship is far from her thoughts at this moment, though — he takes her nipples into his mouth and she whimpers, wriggling under him. Instead of tugging his hair, as had been her want, she strokes it... a habit she picked up from her less rough & tumble lovers.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ There it is again. That weirdly shy restraint, even as she's as strong and sweetly insistent as she's always been. What, he wonders, had caused it? The long gap in time -- or the people she'd taken to bed after him? It is too easy to imagine that the guys, though he'd never seen them, were needle-dicked no-hopers. But Korra's responses to his every move aren't those of a woman unused to being satisfied. She is the opposite of passive -- even as her confidence seems less fulsome that he remembers. How many other lovers had she had? Were they good to her? She'd paired off with him so young. He was her barometer for a lot of things, from kisses to fucking to afterglow -- or lack thereof. He wants to know if it was freeing, touching someone else, a revelation of different aspects in her consciousness, her body. ]

[ There is no way to ask. ]

[ He draws back, tongue tracing the rounds of her nipples, spit-shiny and darkly pebbled from his mouth. ]

Don't hold back with me.

[ A coaxing half-whisper, his gaze catching and digging into Korra's as if trying to sift through those soft layers of shyness, to find that wicked, wild girl he remembers. Maybe she's not there anymore? Things change, bodies change, patterns and preferences kaleidoscope with different lovers. ]

[ Gently, he pinches her nipples, chafes them across the rough pads of his thumb. Experimental, but also playful, rubbing his bristly cheek against the springy points. ]

I wonder if I could make you come just by playing with these.

[ It's idle, half-serious, but a skein of dark curiosity lurks beneath. Not just at what her body can do, how it's changed and how it hasn't -- but if she's more aware of the heights she can scale to now, with the right partners. ]

[anatural]

I'm not. [She's a little wounded, until she remembers how they used to tussle. She tugs on his hair in wry apology.] Just taking my time.

[She wriggles as he plays with her nipples — with fingers and even his stubble, which is way more arousing than she would have expected. Could he make her come just with those? One of her early, unfortunate affairs had a creepy fixation on her breasts... It'd been hot, at first, how he lavished attention upon them, but then he wanted to nurse like a baby and that just completely grossed her out.]

Just don't gurgle like a baby.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Gurgle like a baby? Hei's face expresses a mute bewilderment, like she's just listed Ovaltine as one of her top ten kinks, or some such thing. (They both used to lead such a simple life, once. They really did.) ]

[ Wisely, he refrains from a delicate interrogation. There's no need for it. Her words, her offhand actions, fill the gap of three years, the question marks wafting within, with a sticky stew of clues, corroborations. It makes his brain stutter, because it's uncanny to be doing that with Korra. Weaving a map of her history, based on the slightest remark or gesture, fragments carded and heaped together to create a cohesive whole, the way he automatically does with strangers. He still thinks of her face as a blooming-open sunflower. But now he's no longer sure he knows her. ]

[ It doesn't matter. He's so aroused, his senses swimming with her. Her eyes are all for him right now; he can't help but look into them with a soft curiosity, feeling like he's experiencing a reunion with someone he's forgotten even about forgetting. ]

[ Then he stops thinking at all -- and just does. ]

[ She is so radiant when his mouth touches her, the teeth grazing her skin, neck, chest, slope of each breast. Lips closing over the high tight nipples, worrying them between playful teeth, before he sucks them with ruthless wet pressure into his mouth. As he does, he shifts the drape of his body across hers, wedging his thigh between hers, feeling the soft prickling hairs and hot moisture of her sex. Meanwhile, his mouth and hands stay busy. Experimenting with different sensations, different textures and temperatures. Leisurely, in a way he hasn't been since back in the City. ]

[ Kneading her breasts, plumping them high, he revels in the heat and softness of her skin, the sensuous weight of them. Catches her nipples between his fingers, then his teeth, lusty bites and tweaking pinches, hot gusts of breath and cold wafts of air, grazing them with short nails, letting her nipples rasp across his rough palms, chafe against his bristly stubble, then slide across the wet smoothness of his tongue. Keeps at it, his attention growing progressively more hungry, more certain, until he knows her breasts will be a riot of heavy heat and thumping sensation -- just as his cock is, a drunken thrumming against his belly. ]