just accept this is a soap opera

[electric_lady]

WHO: Asami and Hei
WHAT: They’ve been on a journey for two months looking for Yin. Now Asami & Hei are killing time while they wait for Korra to return.

[It's just about dusk when Asami arrives at the rendezvous point — a little house at the edge of a tiny Fire Nation village that she's renting for this segment of their journey. They'd taken to renting houses instead of hotel rooms to give them more flexibility and security, so they could separate but always maintain a solid home base. It was inexplicably important to Hei that their journey remain strictly hush-hush.

It was more understandably important to Korra and Asami that nobody found out about their threesomes. The gossip rags would eat that information up and they would none of them get a moment's peace, not to mention the embarrassment of facing their friends. Asami knows how self-conscious Korra is about her sexual history, considering both her parents and her past life never dated anyone else, and even Tenzin had only dated Chief Bei Fong before marrying Pema. Asami tries to tell her that in her thousands of lifetimes, surely one of her past incarnations has been happily promiscuous, but without the ability to communicate with them, they'll never know.

Asami lets herself into the house; she's the first one to make it back. Hopefully Hei or Korra will come soon with better news, with some sign of Yin. None of the people she met knew anything. She sighs, sets her shoes aside, and makes a beeline for the sake.

(They'd been drinking sake that first night, when they were still renting hotel rooms. Korra normally refrained from alcohol, but that night she took two shots. As they were folding up the map, getting ready to separate for the night, Korra leaned over and kissed her. Asami was too tipsy to resist, even though Hei was right there. They kept kissing each other, and their clothes came off, and somehow Hei was naked too and pounding Korra while Korra brought Asami off with her fingers. At some point Hei slipped inside Asami too, and Asami remembers thinking dimly Oh no because it's one thing to be in love with Korra; wanting to share her boyfriend is something else entirely.

They woke up sober, embarrassed, and had sex a few more times before dragging themselves out of bed. Then she and Korra had more sex in the shower so that, by the time they got to breakfast, Asami could hardly walk and couldn't count the number of times she'd come. At breakfast, they all decided to not try and put a label on what happened — or a stop. "We all like sex," Korra said. "Let's just...let it happen." And it did, just about every night they were together. This past week, when they all separated to cover more ground, is the longest she's gone without sex since they started this journey three months ago. She doesn't understand how she used to go months without it.)]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's not the only one who feels stuck in a mover. If anything, the recent sexcapades remind Hei why it's wiser to keep himself apart. Relationships are poison. And when they're not poison, they're a chaotic mess. They exist to screw with your mind and interfere with your life. They expect you to abnegate your Self and be someone else's creature -- whether it's in the shape of a fucktoy, a crutch, or a confidant. It's invasive and insane. ]

[ He glances up at Asami's words, his attention re-focusing on her, his thoughts still elsewhere, circling a darker spot like vultures round a corpse. It's disquieting that his once-infamous pokerface has dissolved into sad transparency. But it's not as if he's been surviving in an environment that requires him to be on total red-alert, 110% focused, his agendas masked behind an impregnable facade of calm. ]

[ The luxury of living freely, loving freely... They've made him undeniably soft. ]

[ He doesn't answer Asami. But he can't help but think, not for the first time: Why is she so damn nice? Her gaze is so clear and soft; he feels held in place by its mildness. His own eyes drop coolly, absently, to the rim of his sake cup, more tactfully dismissive than uncomfortable. But he can see her in his peripheral vision, her long legs crossed as if there is a tickling secret between them, all big eyes and red-ribbon mouth and her dark head to one side, like a pedigreed listening dog. ]

[ Except it's not conversation she's inviting. ]

[ He ignores the physical cues -- at least for the moment. Reaching across the table, a curl of rough-tipped fingers around her delicate wrist, he draws it toward him. Lets her upturned hand unfurl, revealing the pale palm. It is softer than Korra's; the lines are smooth, articulated grooves. A lucky hand, the palmists in Hong Kong would call it. He circles a thumb over its surface, as if to smooth it over. ]

[ After a beat, almost idly, ]

Not lost. More ... transitioning between purposes.

[ And he's always been able to find a purpose within himself. Eventually. ]

[electric_lady]

[That touch... Asami bites the inside of her cheek. It's weirdly intimate, him stroking her palm like that. She's disconcerted, aroused, and a little warm. She hadn't expected an honest, even if oblique, answer.]

What do you mean?

[mortemscintilla]

[ What seems intimate to her is perfectly offhand for him. Then again, he's always had a talent for conjuring up a spell of closeness, weaving it into warm glittering lines of honesty to suit his purposes. (To his credit, there is no ulterior motive here. He simply wants to read her reactions, the way he would play a glossy harp at different chords. Equal parts curious and clinical.) ]

[ Tipping her a faint, crooked smile, he keeps his focus on the circling pad of his thumb. On the dull flicker of pulse, where his fingertips rest on her wrist. ]

In my world, I had a purpose set for myself. [ Not carrying out the Syndicate's orders -- but unraveling the mystery of Pai's disappearance. Unraveling, by proxy, the secret of his own mystifying (and faulty) Contractorliness. ] I believed in the need for struggle. Because it makes you feel alive. I believed that the only thing I'd got for certain was myself.

[ His thumb presses into the soft divot of her palm, testing the flexion of muscle and bone. ]

None of those rules apply here. It's like starting from scratch. Korra has her own life. But it's dangerous for me to build mine completely around it. [ And it worked out so fucking well, when he tried it with Pai. ] What I need is meaning. Self-satisfaction. The good stuff.

[electric_lady]

[It's intimate in the sense that Hei's never seemed like the kind of person to just casually touch people; he keeps himself to himself. The idly curious stroking of her hand feels uncharacteristic of him, and the surprise is distracting.]

Don't we all. [She can't imagine living her life without some kind of purpose; she's never had to. She's always transitioned immediately from one life goal to another, finding ways to redefine herself without ever having to inhabit those terrifying gray spaces of uncertainty that she saw Korra go through, that Hei seems to be going through.]

So if purpose is what you need... what do you want?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Casual is too generous a word. Especially for him. Nothing is without a purpose: each scrap of physicality carries subtext, whether threatening or otherwise. Right now, his touch conveys a quiet interest: I find you beautiful. But it also poses a gentle warning: How far are you willing to go to distract me? Without Korra to act as a buffer between them, he has no idea how palatable she'll find him, unalloyed, unabsorbed. ]

[ At her question, he pauses, caught in a moody gyre of conflicted thoughts. None of it shows on his face, though: his gaze his sharpened into its baseline cynicism. ]

I'm not sure what I want anymore. Circumstances change plans I've made -- so I'm on my own. [ He speaks without any traces of sadness, and it's the truth. No names, dates or details: no facts but all truths. ] At least I've got my freedom. I didn't think it would feel like this. But --

[ He tips a shoulder, not ambivalence so much as indifference. He's untethered here, yes. Without goals or meaning -- but free. It's a step up from being dead. ]

[electric_lady]

[His indifference concerns her some, but as she heard one of her managers say to another, "that's way above my pay grade." That's girlfriend territory, and Asami is quite happy to leave it in Korra's hands.

So. Distractions. That Asami is more than happy to provide. She's silent for a moment, giving the conversation some closure before making her advance.]

While we're waiting for Korra, I was wondering if you could help me with something. [Her tone is warm but also matter of fact; it's not the way you'd expect someone to ask you for sex. Asami's a pretty big believer in being upfront with people, though, and she's not interested in flirting with him.] Korra told me about some of the things you did together... Some of it she had no interest in trying again, but it made me curious. [She'd suggested trying them as a threesome at one point when it was her and Korra waiting for Hei, and Korra had awkwardly but sincerely said that she could ask Hei to try it, without Korra having to be involved. "I don't want to watch him do it to you," she'd said. "But if I'm not around..." An awkward shrug and a promise that she'd be honest if it bothered her sealed the deal.]

Would you be up for teaching me a thing or two?

[mortemscintilla]

[ If her candor is unexpected, Hei doesn't let on. He stays where he is, his face wiped of all expression except a neutral curiosity. In a way, he should have seen this coming. Tactically, he's a chameleon, mirroring the moods and manners of those around him, whether in the battlefield, or in bed. But personally, he's always been in tune with what he wants, refusing to let his intrinsic nature be permeated by the deviations and perversions he's surrounded by. He is a killer, unashamed. His preferences are patterned on violence and control, and it shows. Strip away his masks, and it seeps from his pores. ]

[ He doesn't know if Asami wants to be on the receiving end of that -- or if she wants pointers on the opposite end of the spectrum. It doesn't matter. Nor does it matter why she wants it. Hei disdains armchair therapy unless he's softening up a mark. Her penchants and why they manifested are her own business. Nor does he ask if Korra's okay with this. It's obvious Asami wouldn't dare to request anything unless she'd checked with her best friend, first. ]

[ So he lets his thumb skim the cluster of pale-blue veins at her wrist. Not soothing, so much as attentive. A non-verbal: I'm listening. ]

[ A beat, then: ]

Depends on what you have in mind.

[ If it's something too elaborately fetishistic, she'll have to look elsewhere. He's no expert in the field; he only likes the things he likes. ]

[electric_lady]

[She blushes a little — sufficient confidence to be direct does not preclude embarrassment.]

She talked about tied up... [The psychology behind her interest is hardly exciting. She's the head of an international corporation, and has been since she was 18. Bondage is the exact opposite of her daily life — restrained in choices, but with total control of whether it continues or not, while in her life she has dozens of things under her control and yet no ability to make them stop.]

[mortemscintilla]

That's all?

[ Not condescending, just mild. Her interest in getting tied up is neither blase nor raunchy. Everyone has different ways of letting go. It certainly doesn't escape his notice how quietly preoccupied Asami can be. Always self-cataloging and assessing, her mind whirring smoothly away like an expensive machine. It's an alertness that is different from his own brand of hyperwareness -- but similar too. And while he can't say that sort of restriction appeals to him personally -- it is worth recalling that people who enjoy it also enjoy circumstances that are born of having reasonable scope in their choices -- past and present. That is not everyone's reality. ]

[ There is a big difference between being a slave and finding peace in brief submission. ]

[ He lets go of her wrist, but only to let his hand settle atop hers, fingers a loose curl. An illusion of intimacy, but such motions are reflex for him. ]

You prefer to mix it with sex? Or just play with restriction for the time being?

[ He's happy to play it by the ear, although he senses she has the former in mind. Her blush is like an intriguing pink semaphore. ]

[electric_lady]

It's a start. [There's also spanking, cutting, and maybe a few other things she's heard about other places, but she doesn't want to overload herself. It's the basis of every scientific test — limit your variables so you can figure out what really does what.

A moment's hesitation, and she leans in to kiss him. That would be a "yes please" to sex.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ There's a blink, almost as if he's righting the balance on a teetering internal scale, before he lets himself sink closer. Kisses her back, readily, steadily, his hand heavier on the pale starfish of hers. It's not like kissing Korra -- but that's not necessarily a bad thing. She's a good kisser: what she lacks in gunfire she makes up for with pure sweetness. Letting his eyes slip half-shut, Hei edges closer, gathering her into the circle of his free arm. Enveloping, possessive, but not overpowering. Exchanges soft tonguey kisses that don't probe too far -- neither too wet nor too aggressive. At least not yet. ]

[ When he breaks away, it's only to gnaw the tender line of her throat, trace its arc with teeth and tongue. Her skin is soft and alabaster-pale; it makes him think, fleetingly, of Amber's. But she smells different. A faint whiff of spicy perspiration and sake. Beneath it like a ghost, something that reminds him of tiger lilies and a tickle of mint. He inhales the mix as he tries to find spots that please her. ]

[ She isn't like Korra: a lit fuse leading to a brilliant firework. This woman is held carefully together with glossy strings. He plans to find out how many knots it will take to tease her apart. ]

[electric_lady]

[Glossy strings of pure steel, thank you very much. He should know better by now than to tread too softly.]

You can go harder, you know. I'm not a delicate flower. [Unlike Korra, she doesn't punctuate this assertion of her strength with violence. Korra delights in fighting, whereas for Asami it's a means to an end. Korra is proud of her strength, whereas Asami is simply proud of what her strength means — that she can take care of herself. And sexually, she's here to test her limits, not prove herself. She doesn't have anything to prove.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Treading too softly and applying an abrupt spearhead of force are too different things. He knows better than to treat her like a porcelain doll. But he also knows that when guiding someone into unknown territory, it's wiser to lay a foundation of the familiar, bit by bit, for them to walk forward upon. ]

[ He takes her words as what they are -- less a challenge than a reminder. Control is about taking responsibility for everyone's experience, not just your own -- and he requires her communicativeness to smooth over the inevitable wrinkles that arise with every early sexual encounter. (Strange, how he's seldom had that problem with Korra. They aren't capable of reading each others' minds. But everything -- at least usually -- flows so smoothly between them. A seamless electric flux.) ]

[ His palm skims up the arch of her spine, the sweep of one shoulder, a teasing clench at her nape, fingers tangled in the dark heap of hair, before he cradles her skull in his palm. Licking a stripe up her neck, he nudges his lips against hers again. Not a kiss this time. More of an openmouthed bite, all black-burn energy and a burgeoning fizz of aggression, held back on an iron leash. It's rougher than he has been their few encounters prior -- but he doubts it'll surprise her. ]

[ She's seen how he and Korra can be. Ravenous, almost feral. This doesn't even come close. ]

i need to get off my butt and get her more icons

[electric_lady]

[Korra's always been an excellent student (in anything physical), and more perceptive than people give her credit for.

Asami's not the type to express her pleasure audibly; it shows in the way she arches into his touch, the clench of her fingers on his shoulders when he bites her. She definitely appreciates the increased force.

She slides one hand down the collar of his shirt and scrapes her nails against his skin, remembering how much he seemed to enjoy the claw marks Korra would leave on him. Otherwise, Asami's in no rush to get their clothes off. For one thing, she likes clothed foreplay; she also asked Hei to show her bondage, and so is happy to take this at his pace.]

yusss delicious asami icons

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's forgotten what it's like to be with someone who isn't a raunchy little noisemaker. Korra, even kissing him, is flatteringly vocal. Her desire telegraphs itself like bright-blue ripples dancing across her gleaming surface. With Asami, it's... not subdued, but sedate. The way she arches into him is languid, almost at half-speed, but in its own way it's extremely erotic. He lets off an almost noiseless hum into their kiss -- appreciation and approval as her nails skitter past his collar, rasping ticklishly across his skin. ]

[ Since she doesn't seem in a hurry to strip, he utilizes the lull to explore. One hand remains cradling her skull with widespread fingers. The other drifts, a slow spidering across the fabric of her blouse, feeling the shape of her under it: the tensile delicacy of an arm, the jut of hipbone, the pinched-in waist and the dainty birdcage of ribs, swell of breast under his coasting palm. All curiously delicate, compared to Korra -- but not enough to make him hinky about bruising or breaking her. ]

[ Sliding a hand beneath the hem of her shirt, a hot press of skin on skin, he lets his hand splay across her breast, muffled by the fabric of her brassiere. Whorls the pad of his thumb across the point of nipple in idle circles, even as the kiss starts heating up, his teeth catching her tongue in wet tugs, a lewd, rough rhythm that matches the hitches in her breathing. ]

[electric_lady]

[Asami feels a brief moment of horror as she remembers that her underwear doesn't match. The feeling evaporates under the growing heat of their kiss. Both her hands slide down to sneak under his shirt and caress the always surprisingly firm muscle of his stomach. They're not seated in such a way that she can feel his erection, and with the way he's kissing her, she can't just look down at it. She's not sure why that turns her on so much - she's not interested in fucking someone who isn't interested in fucking her. It makes her feel almost naked, her desire so transparent in her stiff nipples and soft stirring movements, while his comparatively hidden. It gives him an edge over her... And she really likes it.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She could be dressed in designer lingerie -- or a frayed sack. It wouldn't detract from her appeal. She may not have Korra's rough-and-tumble zest -- a beauty that exists in its raw, wild-blooming fearlessness. Hers is a polished and classic allure. But it's just as potent. ]

[ His stomach muscles twitch under her stroking palms -- a whipcord tension even as he leans into the touch. The room is so still -- heatless yellow light from the lamp spilling across mussed black hair and wrinkled sheaves of clothes and breaking in spears across the floor: the air disturbed only by glittering eddies of dustmotes and the susurrus of hitched breaths. He can feel Asami's excitement ratcheting. Not the heat-shimmer he's used to from Korra, but something secretive, soft, like a current swirling below a placid stream. Gathering her restless body closer, he swipes a thumb hard across one of her nipples, timing it to a biting tug of her lower-lip. ]

[ Eventually, between a swallow and a small exhale, he breaks the kiss. This time, both his hands travel down her torso, palming her breasts, knuckles skimming over her sternum until they reach her waistband. With a trimmed thumbnail, he traces the pale sliver of skin at the edge -- before his fingers hook under the hem, the rough pads brushing bare skin as he inches it up and off her. ]

[electric_lady]

[Oh he's good. Which she knew, of course, from three months of constant fucking, but this is the first time she's had him to herself. It gives her the opportunity to really get to know him, outside the hot madness of their threesomes. Her breath catches in her throat as he presses hard against her nipples; she blinks slowly, dizzy, as he breaks the kiss.]

Wait — [There are a few hidden clasps in the back of her shirt she needs to undo to avoid ripping it. Usually not hard to reach, although she doesn't often try to undo them while taking her shirt off. Not the most dignified way to go about things — but the shirt does come off.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He lets her handle the tricky fastenings of her blouse. Her movements are the exact opposite of Korra's: almost prim. But then, her usual manner, demure, dignified in a way that makes her seem older than she is -- between the flashes of bright steel that mark her out as Hiroshi Sato's daughter -- have led Hei to guess correctly that she tends to be diffident -- but only at first. ]

[ He plucks the blouse from her fingers, setting it aside. After a moment's pause, he removes his own shirt, pulling it free of his jeans and over his head. He lets it join Asami's own, immaculately folded, reaching out to draw her into the hard enfolding wishbone of his arms. There's no impatience in his body-language. It isn't a matter of savoring it -- she isn't Korra; beyond fondness he feels little for her; he's done this so many times that his heartbeat barely fluctuates. Hei is simply methodical by nature --both in the battlefield and the metaphorical bedroom. ]

[ He gnaws her neck, a cruel, repetitive pressure of teeth, before licking his way slowly down to the hollow of her collarbone. Mouths the pale swells of her breasts, tasting the faint tang of her salt, before he bites one hard nipple through the fabric of her bra, drawing it roughly and deliberately into the hot vacuum of his mouth. ]

[electric_lady]

[That bite gets him a soft inhale, not quite a gasp. Even without sound, it's clear she's enjoying this. As eager as she is to get to the tying up part, she isn't about to rush this. (She is methodical in all things but love... And love is not sex.)

It did feel weird, doing it on the couch. When she was sleeping with Korra, they already moved it to the bedroom by the time clothes were coming off. They always showered before and after, because Asami liked things clean. That fastidious showering did not survive the flash bang intensity of their ménage-a-trois, but strangely enough, doing if in a bed had. She's never actually had sex (or foreplay) outside of the bedroom. She's not sure whether it makes her feel more self-conscious or aroused.

She drags her nails down to caress his stomach... But she doesn't try to slide into his pants. She doesn't want confirmation of his arousal; she likes the mystery.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The heat of her palm seems to saturate Hei's groin, making his erection heavy and hot. It's escaped the confines of his boxers and is down his pant leg: he's going to have to adjust its position soon or it will grow uncomfortable. But for now, he's interested in hearing Asami's breath speed up by hitches, her heartbeat matching the pace where his fingertips rest at the base of her throat. ]

[ Palming her breasts through her bra, he presses them together. Gulps her fabric-covered nipple into his mouth, suckling first slowly, then almost mercilessly through the cloth, the silk smooth, wet, her nipple hard, hot. When both aureoles have crinkled into tender points, displayed lewdly through the clinging fabric, he reaches behind her, unfastening the clasp of her bra. One palm splayed against her shoulder, he nudges, a faint but unmistakable pressure, until she gets the message and lies back, head settled against one of the embroidered zabuton. ]

[ Once she does, he reaches out, carding both hands through her long hair. Working out the tangles, rough-tipped fingertips rasping across her scalp, before he gathers the heavy waves out of the way, so they aren't trapped beneath her skull. Such a different texture from Korra's. Not warm luxuriant fur. More like something fine and slippery -- handspun silk. It calls to mind a brief childhood memory of plucking the sleeve of his mother's formal red qipao at festivals, the fabric a cool slipslide under his fingers. ]

[ Blinking, half-amused, Hei shakes the memory off. Skims his knuckles from her collarbone to the soft vale between her breasts, then lower, tracing the bisecting line of ribs, exploring the comfortable softness of belly, smoothing interested hands over its curve. She isn't as sturdy as Korra: no steely abdominals or sinewy biceps. But there is a sleek blanket of muscle resting underneath the pale skin. ]

[ At the waistband of her trousers, he pauses. Runs the pad of his thumb slowly across the line of cold zipper, pressing it against her mons -- half tease, half reassurance. ]

[electric_lady]

[Okay, they're staying on the couch. Asami hopes Korra comes back late... even if they do have Korra's permission, it'd be awkward for Hei's girlfriend to walk in on them fucking without warning.

Still, Asami's not too worried about — mostly because they do have Korra's permission, and also because she's too aroused to leave room for worry. She rocks her hips up, increasing the pressure. Her hands remain on his belly, but grow a little uncertain. As much as she's enjoying things as they are, she doesn't want to be selfish.]

If there's anything you want me to do... just tell me.

[mortemscintilla]

[ The venue isn't an issue -- unless it's extremely problematic for her. With his lifestyle, Hei sleeps where he chooses -- and fucks where he chooses. If anything, he and Korra have had sex in so many locations, throughout the City and elsewhere, that he's never developed any conception of the 'bedroom' as a shrine of their physical intimacy. ]

[ Asami isn't Korra, Hei has assumed early on that sex, for her at least, tends to be ... safe. Tidy and antiseptic and comfortable. But that's no surprise. He knows her -- or at least her type. She reminds him of those soft-spoken, well-heeled girls from the Azabu neighborhood in Tokyo. Private schools. Mountainside summer-homes. Chauffeured cars. Riding and self-defense lessons. Politely polished and down-to-earth -- but even so, her gilded world has shaped her. For girls like her, sex is a ballroom dance. They're the the last person on earth, you'd imagine, as having a wild side to them. ]

[ Except it's not that simple. There is a spark to her, a quiet blue fire, and it's clear she wants to give in to that side of her. ]

[ Hei is perfectly willing to oblige. ]

[ He rocks the heel of his hand between her thighs. Lets the cool zipper press for a moment against her slit -- before he pops the button of her fly. The zipper falls down as he peels back the flaps of her trousers. Her panties are silky and expensive and he worms a hand between her thighs, feeling the moist material against his fingertips, tracing a slow line across her seam. ]

For now ... [ he murmurs, his tone carrying the smooth nuance of both comfort and command, ] I want you to relax. And give me your wrists.

[electric_lady]

All right. [Relax. Asami takes a deep breath, and with one exhale lets all the tension out of her muscles. She shifts her arms so that they come up under her breasts rather than crushing them, and offers him her wrists.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Again, the differences between her and Korra are remarkable. She melts under him as if gorgeously deflating -- unlike Korra, whose whole body is a vibrating ball of tension, every fast-twitch muscle committed to the goal of unstoppable motion. She's gotten better about letting go: lately he's noticed her newfound ease to stay still, to absorb what matters while letting the unnecessary wash over her. But even now, the suggestion to Relax makes her squinch her face up with an irritable, I am relaxed! ]

[ Of course, she's the Avatar. With her role, everything is a struggle. It knits itself deep inside her. At least, as the years have passed, she's matured, mellowed a degree. She's survived awful things, and Hei will dare to think that she might last. Live to a ripe old age, as an Avatar but also a free woman, secure in her body, her role, and her self. ]

[ He's willing to be an optimist. Korra has taught him to dare that. ]

[ Blinking, he lets the ideas of Korra slip away in favor of the sultry woman spread beneath him. Clasping her small wrists together, he reaches for the fringed tea-towel on the table -- a strip of narrow cotton, embroidered with pink sakura. He wraps it around Asami's wrists twice, folds it at the center, and secures it into a tight square knot, then takes out the Swiss army knife from his pocket and cuts off the extra fabric. ]

[ Carefully, he eases her arms up over her head, her bound wrists settled across the cushions. Skims his fingers along the bindings, testing for pinched skin, evaluating the consistency of the knots. He wants it to be comfortable, with minimal strain -- but still restrictive enough that she comprehends her own stillness, how she is hopelessly revealed. ]

[ Satisfied, he draws back to regard her -- stretched languorously taut, and ravishing. ]

[ He twines a bit of her hair in his fingers, where it spills in dark ripples over her shoulders. Brushes the ticklish ends across her mouth, idle, almost contemplative. ]

No safewords. [ At least this time. ] No means no. Stop means stop. All right?