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]

[ 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?

[electric_lady]

[He draws back, and Asami carefully tests the bindings herself. She likes the way this position thrusts up her breasts; she can feel her nipples tighten and her insides tingle with awareness and desire. She imagines how it'd feel to be tied up more elaborately, with the ropes winding around her completely, making her completely immobile. Definitely, definitely wants to try that, preferably tonight but that could be the arousal talking.]

Got it.

[She rolls her hips encouragingly, but otherwise remains still, happily ceding control to him.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ On step at a time. He'd prefer to test her limits first. ]

[ Skinning her trousers down her legs, he spreads her knees, fitting himself at the juncture of her thighs. Denying her that subtle relief of pressing her legs together, managing the tension curling inside her. He doesn't touch her right away. Instead he lets his gaze meander. There is something in his eyes that wasn't visible in their past encounters -- the crackling, dangerous energy. But it's not threatening. It's enticing -- all dark-edged steel and control, because this is it, it's now. ]

[ It's a long moment before he reaches out. Trails his fingertips down her throat, tracing her collarbone, then the curve of her right breast, before covering it with the palm of his hand. He kneads it slowly, then more roughly, digging his fingernails into the pliant flesh. The skin of her chest, her thighs, her belly, is almost milky. Her nipples are a rosy pink that match the mottling flush creeping across her face. She is almost perfect, physically, but not quite. Her hips, her jaw, her torso, are all just a little too fragile -- but this, in his eyes, saves her from the banality of perfection. These attributes make her unique. Interesting to him. ]

[ Grasping her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, he rolls it slowly, then repetitively, sharp pinches to feel her pulse, to gauge how much roughness she'll allow. With the other hand, he strokes her soft, pale belly, tracing his thumb across the band of her panties. Through the lace at the top he can see the outline of her sex, framed by very wispy dark hair. ]

[ Hei doesn't slip his hand inside her underwear. Doesn't peel it off. Instead he probes her moist seam through the fabric, a single finger. Measuring between her pubic lips, front and back, once, twice, again, dampening the fabric with her seeping juices, before he plunges deeper between them, the lace a soft tugging friction across her clit. ]

[electric_lady]

[For which Asami is glad, though it's hard not to be impatient when it feels so good. But she focuses on the now — the fierce tugs on her nipples, the way he squeezes her breast almost hard enough to bruise. She has Korra's affinity for rough play, without the emotional scars from previous abuse; there's nothing to mar her enjoyment.]

Oh — [The rub of lace pulls the first sound out of her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she clenches her fists, savoring the sharp sting of her nails against her palm.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei allows himself a private half-smile of appreciation at the noise that's coaxed from her throat. Not, "Uh," or, "Mmm," or any of those delicious kittenish cries that escape Korra when her desire ratchets higher, but that single, soft, fully-formed word, the purest articulation of pleasure he's heard from her tonight. Yet she's easier, freer, about it than Korra ever is -- and it makes something drag rusted nails into his heart. It's his fault, he knows that. It's the reason why, whenever Korra comes to his mind, it is always with a fizzy rush of feeling, a bloom of brilliant color, a jittery bottomless yearning -- and a horrible regret. ]

[ He can't keep thinking of Korra. ]

[ His finger commences a languid seesawing motion, over and over. Sliding down to Asami's damp entrance, then sliding back up to her clit, a soft rasp of silk and slickness across where all her sensation centers and crackles. Leaning in, he licks a hot flat stripe across the undersides of her breasts, where the lace of her bra has left its faint pink calligraphy. His cock is a suffocating ache extending down the leg of his pants -- and the buttery warmth of her body feeds a more restless twitching. ]

[ He ignores it -- at least for the moment. Dips his head so he can gulp one breast into his mouth, suckling hard, feeling the scrape of pebbly aureole across his teeth. Nothing like Korra -- a lush, mouth-watering bounty that makes him want to growl and bite. But the very difference makes it voluptuous and intriguing. He feeds on her breasts with a ruthless pressure, teething and stretching and lapping at them, drawing them into beestung pink points. When he's done, he leaves her breasts shining damply from his mouth, faint red rings of teethmarks across the pale skin. Even the bruising is different from Korra's -- less burnt-looking blotches, more rosy daubs. ]

[ Nothing a damned thing like Korra. Maybe it is about Korra, somehow, but this girl is lovely and different and new, and she wants to see how much she can take, how much he's ready to give. ]

[ That's pretty fucking sexy. ]

[electric_lady]

[What's between them will always be about Korra. The reason Asami trusts Hei enough to do this is the devotion he's shown to her friend; the reason she's interested in exploring bondage is it's something she couldn't do with Korra. Maybe, if she wasn't so in love with her friend, she would have found someone else with whom she could have developed the trust to do this. But she never had the incentive.

What's between them is always about Korra, but that doesn't mean he's a substitute or a proxy. Asami is attracted to Hei on his own merits; he falls very firmly into her physical type (both Mako and Korra, after all, are extremely strong without being bulky like Bolin). The person she's fucking right now, and the person she wants to be fucking right now, is him.

She arches up into him, panting as her pleasure builds. The frustration of her bound wrists only adds to the delicious tension.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The sight of her, hair in inky curls around her pale skin, eyelashes a dark flutter on flushed cheeks, makes Hei's pulse kick up. When she arches under him, the needy undulation is at once self-absorbed and languishing, doing gorgeous things to the shape of her breasts, stretching the skin taut across the V of her ribcage, her stomach a soft trembling slope, her taut thighs limned by the yellow lamplight in perfect relief, all of her body arrowing its tension toward her groin. ]

[ Idly, he bites the underside of one breast. Runs his tongue in a wet, careless swathe across her belly, abrading the soft skin with the stubble that breaks like fine-powdered emery across his cheek. She'll let him do anything, that is clear; almost anything within the bounds of logic and sanity. Close enough to anything to make her feel very, very good. ]

[ The heel of his palm presses insidiously against the soft pillow-flesh of her mons. He kneads her there slowly, a sustained pressure, too much yet not enough. Rims her entrance with a finger, going round and round, feeling the pooling moisture, how it dampens the fabric of her panties. Searching, then fixing, on one good spot inside her, rubbing rhythmically there, up and down, up and down, a bare whisper of fulfillment -- right before he takes his hand away. Grabs a fistful of material at her waistband, roughly wrenching her panties down and off her, letting the cool air touch the exposed flesh of her wet slit. ]

[electric_lady]

Ah! [She didn't think the room was that cold, until he rips her panties off and the air hits her hot, swollen skin. Her breasts feel raw from his stubble; everything hurts, but she loves it. Her right leg slips off the couch, mostly because there's really not enough room to be doing this here but it has the added benefit of opening herself wider for them.

Her skin trembles, anxious and eager for whatever he chooses to do next. Maybe he'll torture her with his tongue. Maybe he'll pull out his erection & bring himself off with her breasts. Maybe he'll fuck her mouth — just thinking about it makes her lick her lips and take a deep, shuddering breath. Her mind dances with the possibilities, each new thought racheting up her excitement. But she doesn't say anything; she just enjoys the delicious mystery of wondering what he'll do next.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ More likely all three -- at his own sweet time. ]

[ Kneeling between her splayed legs, Hei lets his gaze slip from her sweetly tortured face to the trembling stem of her body, nipples bitten pebble-hard and soft breasts blotched with his rough kisses, then down between her thighs. Her sex isn't like Korra's -- an amazing, beautiful mess of pooched folds and dewed black curls. She is trimmed very close, the way you see in magazines. Manicured. A sparse dark line, nothing else, and the way she is spread, he can see that obscenely pink flesh peeping beneath, the delicate, ruffled fringe of inner lips that is nearly the same shade as her nipples. ]

[ Idly, he strokes her thighs, marveling at the poreless skin, the texture like a newly unrwapped tablet of soap. Then with his finger and thumb, he reaches into the scrim of silky damp hair itself and traces her tender public lips, before coaxing them very wide open. Shifting, Hei leans in, his gaze sweeping across her like the slow movement of a clock hand. Exhales, his breath a hot feather across her slippery entrance, the unhooded nub of her clit. ]

[ Despite all their earlier threesomes, he hasn't gotten around to eating her out yet. But that's no surprise -- cunnilingus is pretty low on his list of preferred activities. The role of the olfactory nerve in matters of arousal is hugely significant for him. That heavy, hormonal, almost pungent scent of a woman can be either an amazingly powerful trigger -- or an absolute turn-off. Asami's scent is very different from Korra's. Lighter, almost earthy, like the wet loam of early spring. ]

[ He likes it. Likes too, the slick topography under his tongue, as he drags it across her labia, performing a jawbreaker swirl, without the jawbreaker, while with his hand, he finds her clit, working it gently between his fingers, back and forth, back and forth, a teasing overload of sensation. ]

[electric_lady]

[I don't know, Hei, cunnilingus seems to be one of your favorite activities with Korra. The practice you've logged in with her certainly shows. Korra is really good with her tongue, but it takes awhile to get Asami really worked up — a slow, steady climb. Right now she's hurtling up through the air like gravity is backwards. Maybe it's him; maybe it's being bound. Who knows what makes the difference.]

Hei — [It's not a moan or a whine; more a breathless expression of appreciation.] Harder. I'm... going to come. [A part of her can't believe it's happening so quickly; another part realizes she actually has no idea how much time has passed.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Cunnilingus with Korra will always be one of his favorite activities. He's not sure what alchemy, what complex mix of pheromones, shapes his desire. Maybe it's that fabulously tart taste of her, that electrifying musk. Maybe it's the way her response to his attentions is always something to behold, her sex demanding its pleasure with the fluttering ferocity of a sea anemone at the kill. Hei has no idea what it is. He only knows it makes him wish for the tongue of a reptile. ]

[ That's not to say he's not enjoying doing this for Asami. He knows it takes time for her to climb -- a slow burn fed by patience and focus into a pure, white-hot flare. But right now, she's slipped with gratifying speed straight into the zone -- singleminded and breathless and stunningly lewd -- all stirring hips and jittery breaths. Hei watches her as she climbs, his dark gaze hungry and hawkish. But the noise he makes in his throat -- a subvocal thrum -- is almost an Uh-uh. He's not planning to let her come so soon. ]

[ Catching her clit between soft lips, he laps at it with the rough edge of his tongue. Stabs it into her entrance, wet, thick slurps, before licking her clean -- right before he suddenly, savagely, sucks at her clit. Just enough to send her teetering to the very tip of orgasm -- before he lets her go. ]

[ Rocking back on his heels, he wipes his slicked mouth with the back of his wrist. His breaths are knocked ever-so-slightly out of rhythm, but still deep and steady. ]

...Not yet.

[electric_lady]

What? [Asami jerks up, inadvertently whacking the couch with her bound hands. Normally her self-control is much better than this, but that last savage suck blasted it away. She stares at him, struggling to get her breathing back under control, to get a handle on her frustration.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She is a picture of lovely dishevelment -- messy-haired and wild, cheeks high with heat and eyes a hazy green shimmer. A smile sneaks at the corners of Hei's mouth: it is rewarding to see her stripped of the protective barrier of her serene self-possession. It is its own form of exposure. ]

[ With a free hand, he reaches out to cup her cheek. Traces his thumb across her parted lips, and into the waiting heat of her mouth. When he speaks, his voice is quiet -- a soothing monotone that doesn't betray his fast-thrumming interior. ]

Some things don't mean so much if you don't earn them.

[ This isn't meant to proceed at her pace -- but his. And what he wants most is for her to drink in the full measure of what she's agreed to. For him to coax her to -- and then through -- her sexual limits. Little Miss Sato, who handles all the biggest deals in Republic City. Keeps at an arm's length all the men with fancy titles and tailored suits, eager for a one-off with the beauty who holds a veritable empire in the palm of her hand. Handles them across boardroom tables, at close quarters in limousines and couches. Controls them with those soft green eyes, with the small permissions they can grant or strip away. ]

[ Right now, those subtle permissions aren't hers to give. (Unless she says 'Stop.' Then the games will desist entirely.) ]