[ By the time Korra arrives, Hei's decided he might as well get laid. Korra is tetchy, troublesome and threatens to grind his patience into a pulped mass of nerve endings -- whereas the woman right in front of him, whom he doesn't know or care about one bit, is about as perfect as any woman can be. So why not stick around and improve their acquaintance? ]
[ That's what he's planned, anyway. At which point she's fondling the hard bulge in his crotch with a lewd indifference to their surroundings, and he's got her wriggling like a belly-dancer, both hands up her dress, their heavy breathing making a counterpoint to the music. Backing her up to perch on the edge of a creaky table, her legs flexing open, Hei drops a hand to undo his fly, to rummage in his pocket for a condom. ]
[ At which point Korra traipses up, then taps the woman's shoulder. In a beat, she's wriggled out of Hei's grasp, tottering in her high heels, and disappeared back inside the bar. Something in him curls, arid with a scorching annoyance. He turns, mouth half-open, ready to snap that unless there's an emergency, she's going to end up zapped to a crisp -- ]
[ Then her mouth crashes upon his -- the kiss a wet burning-hot flower. ]
[ Hei's breath catches almost inaudibly, pulse kickstarting behind his ribs. If the kiss were tender, it would be easy to jerk away, to maintain his usual distance. But this isn't someone being being drunkenly self-indulgent. This is like being a witness to self-inflicted violation. It tells in her kiss. There is no softness in there. Just manic desperation. Hei's every sense contracts to nothing but her grasping little hands, the hot vacuum of her mouth, endlessly thirsty, endlessly consuming -- until it feels as though the crackling ball of rage in his gut is rising to meet her with her every gulp, everything in his body rising with it. A hot, resigned arousal. ]
[ With a vicious force, he hauls her in, opening her mouth to his biting kiss. One hand fists the warm thick tumble of her hair; the other palms her right breast, squeezes with a rough leisurely possessiveness, then slides down the ladder of ribs before splaying bruisingly-tight across the jut of her hip. ]
[ When he breaks the kiss, he doesn't wrench away. Just crowds her back against the nearest shuttered window -- a hard glancing force off the glass. A pane fractured in dusty spiderweb cracks. ]
[ Hei ignores it. His gaze is fixed on Korra -- sere, severe, the face cryptically smooth. ]
...Is this what you're after?
[ Suicide by Contractor? Is she trying to get him so riled up he'll lose his head and snap her neck? (Because if she keeps it up, he'll oblige.) ]
no subject
[ That's what he's planned, anyway. At which point she's fondling the hard bulge in his crotch with a lewd indifference to their surroundings, and he's got her wriggling like a belly-dancer, both hands up her dress, their heavy breathing making a counterpoint to the music. Backing her up to perch on the edge of a creaky table, her legs flexing open, Hei drops a hand to undo his fly, to rummage in his pocket for a condom. ]
[ At which point Korra traipses up, then taps the woman's shoulder. In a beat, she's wriggled out of Hei's grasp, tottering in her high heels, and disappeared back inside the bar. Something in him curls, arid with a scorching annoyance. He turns, mouth half-open, ready to snap that unless there's an emergency, she's going to end up zapped to a crisp -- ]
[ Then her mouth crashes upon his -- the kiss a wet burning-hot flower. ]
[ Hei's breath catches almost inaudibly, pulse kickstarting behind his ribs. If the kiss were tender, it would be easy to jerk away, to maintain his usual distance. But this isn't someone being being drunkenly self-indulgent. This is like being a witness to self-inflicted violation. It tells in her kiss. There is no softness in there. Just manic desperation. Hei's every sense contracts to nothing but her grasping little hands, the hot vacuum of her mouth, endlessly thirsty, endlessly consuming -- until it feels as though the crackling ball of rage in his gut is rising to meet her with her every gulp, everything in his body rising with it. A hot, resigned arousal. ]
[ With a vicious force, he hauls her in, opening her mouth to his biting kiss. One hand fists the warm thick tumble of her hair; the other palms her right breast, squeezes with a rough leisurely possessiveness, then slides down the ladder of ribs before splaying bruisingly-tight across the jut of her hip. ]
[ When he breaks the kiss, he doesn't wrench away. Just crowds her back against the nearest shuttered window -- a hard glancing force off the glass. A pane fractured in dusty spiderweb cracks. ]
[ Hei ignores it. His gaze is fixed on Korra -- sere, severe, the face cryptically smooth. ]
...Is this what you're after?
[ Suicide by Contractor? Is she trying to get him so riled up he'll lose his head and snap her neck? (Because if she keeps it up, he'll oblige.) ]