You don't know how you got here

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra and Hei.
WHAT: Two Contractors after a messy hit.

[ The assignment is complete. After a fashion. ]

[ The target's stretch limousine explodes, a time-bomb hurtling at eighty miles per hour. Hei verifies the detonation in the side-view mirror of their getaway van. The brilliant flames glow across the express lane, a bonfire on a humid July night, the deadly cacophony fifty yards behind him on the I-95. The ferocity from the detonation rolls through the atmosphere, juddering both sides of the interstate and adjacent roads like in a San Francisco earthquake. Brake lights flare in a screeching chorus. Behind Hei, beyond the blazing limousine, four lanes of interstate crowded with cars, trucks, and motorcycles careen to an ear-splitting halt, too late for speed demons to swerve and avoid flying debris. ]

[ Their van keeps going. The target is dead. The botched mission completed in less than forty-eight hours. The teflon-coated politician inside the limo had coasted through a dream-life of caviar and champagne, bodyguards at his side, girls in his lap, boys paid to shoot and kill and girls trained to smile and please. A man who didn't hesitate to have his enemies dragged to the desert and fed to the buzzards. ]

[ A prominent Syndicate faction had become one of his problems. And so the politician became one of theirs. ]

[ All BK201 knows is what he'd been briefed on, during the overseas assignment. And that, in itself, isn't much. The less the killing-machines knew, the better. What mattered was that they rectified the situation as they'd been ordered to. ]

[ The remote trigger that sparked blast is still in Hei's gloved hand. With a zzzt and a curl of smoke, he shorts it out. Tosses it out the window, while their van lurches from right lane to left lane to right lane, threading traffic like a bulky needle, becoming a fast-moving blur vanishing down I-95. Hei exhales, absorbing the metal's chill; the van is a freezer. Across him is the only other survivor of the hit: NC-108. Korra. Both their faces are crusted in dried blood, clothes grimy, hair in tufts. But everything else is intact -- unlike the rest of their teammates. The politician managed to weed them out before they'd fully infiltrated his base. Two were murdered in their hotel room by a hitman dressed as a waiter. The other three were machine-gunned on the street last night during dinner in a café by hostiles in police uniforms. The Syndicate is still recovering their mangled bodies. ]

[ Hei and Korra were advised to abort the operation and contact their respective handlers. Neither had bothered. Hei, because his inner-completionist refused to leave the job undone. Korra, because -- let's face it -- she has a streak, miles wide, that compels her to throw herself into the maelstrom of disaster, daredevilry the cover for an easy exit. During their firefight with the politician's hitmen, Hei had to drag her away a few times from almost certain disembowelment or death -- narrow saves that made Korra grin like she was high, the fevery glow off her skin like an irradiated firefly. ]

[ Hei can't say it bodes well. Not for her -- or her long-term career. ]

[ It doesn't matter. They've both succeeded at this mission. Five dead teammates equal five less cuts on the final payment. There's a tidy sum waiting for the two of them. A quarter of a million dollars, each. Hei's cellphone has already vibrated with the message: FUNDS TRANSFERRED. ]

[ It's a living, he thinks, gazing out the window with a sedate veneer but a tensile edge to his jaw. Forty-eight hours, five eliminated associates, and he's earned $250,000. And all it took was a few scrapes and bruises, a tricky full-immersion identity, and a block of old-fashioned C-4. ]

[ The Syndicate's safehouse is in an old motel, one of twelve pink stucco cottages strung out around a gravel parking lot. The cabin reeks of must, and like everything that night, humidly salty. Switching on the rattling air-conditioner, Hei conducts his careful sweep for bugs across the room. Satisfied, he shrugs off his coat -- stiff with caked blood -- before glancing impassively toward Korra, ]

Take the first shower.

[ He's not being a gentleman. But the widest window for enemy retaliation -- and the Syndicate's own post-mission clean-ups -- occurs in the twelve hours after the successful hit. If they're ambushed, Hei doesn't plan to be naked, dripping wet and unarmed. ]

Comments

/TACKLES

[anatural]

[Not being attached to life isn't the same thing as being sick of it, a fact which seems to elude Hei. There is plenty to enjoy in life, like sex and good food and cool crisp days and walks with Naga. But death offers freedom, which is why she doesn't fear it.

He comes and she almost howls, frustration and ache and need.] You're not finished. [She yanks her arm free from his grip and grabs for one of his hands, determined to shove it between her legs. She's going to come, God damn it. She's going to get her satisfaction.]

/CHUUUU

[mortemscintilla]

[ Breathless and buzzed, Hei lets her grab his hand and bring it to her sex. But it accomplishes nothing; he is intent on playing with her. She is so wet -- fucking sopping -- and he buries his fingers inside her, strokes her twitchy clit with his thumb, an aimless lazy flicking. Just enough to feed hitches in her breathing before each exhale thins out further, rekindling that shivery ache through her, the tremor that is the whisper of fulfillment -- ]

[ In the next beat, he draws his hand away. ]

You don't tell me what to do.

[ Not a rebuke but a cool dismissal. He straightens and steadies and withdraws, the brisk lift of zipper punctuating his words. The condom, he disposes with one bright zap, leaving it an acrid-scented curl across the ground. No reason to leave DNA traces. ]

[ Doing up his belt, he straightens his clothes before reaching out with one hand, hauling her around by a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck. He looms over her, the angles of his face hardening to blot out whatever private satisfaction was there, and when he leans in, it's not a kiss so much as a bite. He cradles her head in his hands like a heavy inanimate object, drawing viciously on her lips, opening them, stabbing his tongue into her -- and then abruptly letting her go. ]

Get dressed. You're coming back to the hotel with me.

/smooches

[anatural]

[She is going to kill him. She is going to kill him so dead. She calls up a ball of flame, thinking about how she wanted to burn him alive -- and just as quickly lets it die. She's not irrational, after all. This is no place, and she's in no state for, a fight, particularly with BK-201.

Besides, that hard biting kiss shows he's no musket -- he's got a few rounds left. If all of them are as intense as the fuck they just had, she'll be very well satisfied.

Still, she doesn't move when he gives his little command.]

Why should I?

u////u<3

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei doesn't answer her. He just jerks her to her feet, her hair wound around his left hand, so she's pressed close to him. So her tight little nipples rub against the thick fabric of his coat, and the cold buckle of his belt burns the hot skin of her belly. He lets her see his face crease into a slow half-smile as his knee presses against hurting sex, teasing its hunger. ]

[ Dipping his head, he licks her lips -- a fast swipe that's both a promise and threat -- before breathing in her ear. ]

If you don't move, I'm going to make you beg like a bitch. I'll make you crawl and cry for it and then I'm going to jerk off in your face. [ Quieter, the alternative spoken in a hot tender nuzzling against the sensitive crook of her jaw. ] Come back with me -- and I'll give you what you want. As many times as you want it.

[ At least until he's done todging every last stretchable orifice in that sweet little body, all the long miserable days and restless nights on the road drained into her. ]

[anatural]

[She can't keep herself from moaning as he grinds against her. Fuck but she needs this so badly.]

Don't make a promise you can't keep.

[She tugs down her bra, wiggles into her pants and boots, and tugs her shirt back over her head, forcing the desire down into a dark box, to be re-opened back at the hotel.]

So let's go. [She slaps his ass for good measure.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He grabs her wrist, wrenching her close with his arm looped around her shoulders -- to all appearances a sweet and spoony couple on their way home. Only Korra will feel the the bite of his fingers against her flesh, their warning implicit. Outwardly, he stays unperturbed -- bland of expression and unhurried in stride. The cantina's music fades to a wafting tinkle as they drift away. The pre-dawn sky is so strange; its color, unlike in Tokyo, with its green aurora borealis hues and its proximity to the Gate, is more of a diffuse purple. The skies everywhere else are like that too: a dim monotone color; they don't press down with the same palpable weight. ]

[ At the hotel, he conducts his instinctive sweep of the entrance, the corridors, the stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that's any different from the way they'd left it. A dim light burns the vestibule orange: unlocking the door and herding Korra through it, Hei regards her in passing. Wildly pretty, dark-haired and mussed, an innocent face and an oddly voluptuous body. A mess of incongruities, inside and out, yet nothing especially singular. Her face could be anyone's face. In the dark, face-down and pillow-muffled across the bed, Hei thinks he could imagine her as anyone he wants. ]

[ Except he doesn't want to imagine anyone. ]

[ The door clicks shut. In a blink he's flowed behind her, both hands gripping her shoulders, then sliding down to palm her breasts, pinching her nipples sharply through her blouse, holding her immobile to maul her neck -- without consideration, but without particular hurry, either. After the first lightning bout, it's clear he has a more leisurely and thorough ravaging planned. ]

[anatural]

[Korra lets him maul her breasts and neck while she undoes her pants. Once they're unzipped, she twists around and hooks her leg around his, pressing herself against his thigh.

She doesn't even think about pretending he's someone else; that's not how she operates. That shit's for people with active imaginations and low standards. Korra fucks exactly who she wants to fuck. Dick is abundant and low value. And there is something a little intoxicating about it being him in particular. Struggling with him gives her the same rush she felt when they first fought, before he destroyed her life. She fights; he wins, but instead of destruction she gets mind-blowing sex. The psychology of it would be fascinating, if she cared about that sort of thing.

But she doesn't. She just wraps her arms around him and presses herself closer.]

I believe someone promised me what I want. As many times as I want it.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei would prefer not to ponder the psychology at all. That way lies that familiar twinge in his chest: a twist of meaningless regret. And something darker tangled with that. A quiet homesickness. All the wrong things to feel, but he can't stop feeling them. Or maybe they aren't the wrong things at all; he isn't sure. His moral radar is broken, his emotional thermostat well and truly fucked up long before he became a Contractor. Since Pai vanished -- or before that -- it's been one mistake after another, monumental or mundane. He can't remember any more what is right and what isn't. ]

[ Part of him knows this isn't right, though. He's snatched Korra out of her happy cradle of normalcy, and tossed her into a snake-pit. Fucking her on top of that ... not once but over and over ... Has he really descended right through that nacreous spectrum of right and wrong? ]

[ He doesn't know. But -- fuck, he appreciates what a delicious mouthful the girl is. ]

[ She curls around him, a lewd moist ribboning of arms and legs. Hei doesn't answer her. Slinging an arm around her, he hitches her roughly closer -- a hefty but welcome baggage. Walking deeper into the room, he is already undressing her, yanking her blouse and her bra off over her head, tugging off her boots, wadding and chucking her trousers at the floor. His dick is at half-mast from his jeans. Unbuttoning his shirt first with brisk fingers, he shucks those off too, before depositing Korra heavily at the edge of the bed, eyeing the voluptuous sprawl of her. ]

Lie back. Spread your legs.

[ Iron edges his order. But with it is a renewed hunger. ]

[anatural]

[It's what, a 15 minute walk from the cantina? Short refractory period — Korra appreciates that in a man. She smiles and rests her hand on her hands before slowly obeying his demand. Her hips are already undulating in a silent plea, but it comes off more as teasing than desperate.]

Are you going to put that tongue of yours to good use?

[The only wrong thing to do in this situation is to not take Korra as the master of her own desires. Stuff that paternalism where the sun don't shine.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's at the age where there are three things in particular that any fighter in-field misses when they're older: being sharp-eyed enough to take out a dime-size target at five hundred yards in low light. Being spry enough to run up a dozen flight of stairs without getting winded. Being young enough to get wood as quick as a fourteen-year-old with a can of Red Bull and a porn video -- but with enough stamina to make the most of it. Exercise is the key: privately he's always thought the pencil-necked needle-dicks and the grizzled old farts with ED should join a gym or a boxing club. A round of sparring beats that little blue pill all to hell. ]

[ His eyes track the sinuous tick-tocking of her body, a sweetly secret countdown, her hips rippling as if to feed herself to him. But he doesn't reach for her -- or rise to her taunt, his own words impudently flung back at him. A pair of hotel robes lie puddled on a nearby chair. Walking over to them, he pulls the belt off the first robe, before reaching out and grabbing Korra's wrists. Binding them tightly, he secures them to one of the bedposts in a sturdy square knot with his teeth. Wrenches the belt off the second robe, slicing it in half with his switchblade, before her body is stretched to its full length as her ankles are now tied. ]

[ Trussed and spread-eagled, she is like a ripe fruit on display. She has plenty of room to toss and turn, bend her arms and legs -- but she is also utterly rigid, utterly bound, a tight and helpless thing unable to shield her breasts or the glistening pink bit peeping between the scrim of dark curls at her sex. ]

[ The sight of her at his mercy feeds his cock stiffly upright, tucked against his belly. When he finally condescends to touch her, it's idle, almost offhand. Cool fingers coasting her inner-thighs, forcing them wider apart, as wide as they'll go. He flows to his knees at the foot of the bed, his mouth hovering between her legs, only inches above her swollen and mercilessly revealed sex. Her scent -- warm, saltine, heavy -- makes the air sharp. ]

[ He doesn't touch her. His humid breath ruffles her damp curls -- a deliberate tease. Payback for her earlier remark. ]

[anatural]

[Helpless? Bitch please. She could break out of these bonds easily with her ridiculous strength — or simply burn them off. That's why she lets him tie her up with nothing more than a token resistance. She's only as helpless as she chooses to be.

She likes how much he's clearly enjoying it, his angry little cock standing completely at attention. Considering what a dick he is, it seems appropriate that his dick is his most expressive body part. Any other time and she would love to watch him touch himself as he looks at her. (She used to do that to Mako — make him masturbate to her naked body. She loved how shy he was about it, how frustrated and needy it made him.) Right now she's too needy herself for that kind of sexual teasing.

She closes her eyes and lets out a ragged sigh as he moves between her legs. But he doesn't touch her. She growls and bucks her hips.]

Pussies aren't just for looking, you know.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei ignores her completely. His hands keep skimming up her thighs, softly from the crux of her hip to the kneecap, up and back, up and back. Trancelike, lazy. His mouth, when he touches her at last, is a soft-soft-soft kiss, the tongue a slick furl. Lapping from the cleft of her ass all the way to the point of her clit, hard and flushed as a pomegranate seed. But so softly, that at first Korra might think he is mocking her -- or, not mocking, but maybe he's experimenting, doesn't have a sense yet of how much stimulation her sensitized flesh can take. ]

[ But it's just warming her up, and she will learn this as he seals his mouth over her dripping sex, his tongue a steady lapping as he hums low and dark in his throat, the braid of his tones with the licking enough to make her buzz everywhere. The force increases, but it's mercilessly slow, a tantalizing cruelty. ]

[ From stroking her thighs, his right hand moves to cup her mons, the thumb flicking softly across the unattended clit between the thick slurps of his tongue between her lips. Each time her breathing gets ragged, her hips begin rocking insistently, he eases off. Turning his attention sometimes to the pink frill of her inner-lips, flicking and sucking at them. Sometimes to the tight, flexing entrance of her vagina -- or a daring dart of tongue against the pucker of her ass. Sometimes stopping entirely just to cover his mouth across her slippery little cunt, humming deep in his throat so the thrum hits her tenderest parts. ]

[anatural]

[Oh god, he's the worst (best?) kind of sadist. Korra hadn't thought it was possible to feel this level of sexual frustration. How can a body hold that much tension and need? She struggles against her bonds and growls.]

I know you're a fucking tease. Okay? [oh god oh god oh god She moans and writhes.] You've proved your point. [Now let her fucking come!]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei keeps his flat, calm facade -- but his eyes have picked up a knife-sharp glint, roving across her restless body with an infinitude of interest. Doesn't matter that she's one of the Syndicate's brightest stars: a creature of pure energy and burning momentum. Right now she's just an ordinary girl. He can smell her sweat. Her breathing is ragged and her heart beats with a thubbing intensity and she is this complex yet unutterably common machinery, this grunt of skin and muscle. Meat, like anyone Hei has fucked or cheated or sliced down. ]

[ But right now he is captured; she is obscenely splendid. ]

[ The flat of his tongue works her exposed sex continually. Not a square inch of her escapes his attentions. Labia, clit, inside, inner thigh, all wet now from his licking. But he's changed rhythm -- tongue tracing slippery whorls around her clit as his thumb probes her slick entrance. The index finger, coated in her fluids, tries her ass, the tight bud flexing as he works his finger deeper into it. Coaxing that primitive jittery energy percolating her body, determined to watch it break like a high wave crashing through her. ]

[anatural]

[Many a boy has asked Korra to try anal, and she's turned them down flat. She didn't think there'd be anything in it for her -- blowjobs at least she's in a position of power and control, but anal sex offers all the vulnerability of penetration with none of the clit stimulation.

Fuck she was so wrong. Except not really, because it doesn't have the same lightning pleasure of vaginal penetration. It's just invasive, but the gall of that invasion makes her entire lower body clench. She shudders as a micro-orgasm runs through her. She thinks it's a kind of orgasm anyway; there's still an unbearable pressure seated in her pelvis, while her limbs feel like boiled noodles, a post-orgasmic state. It's a strange combination of sensations that leave her feeling helpless and desperate.]

Another finger. [She wants to feel more full, more pressure and friction.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei doesn't smile. But his eyes are crinkled at the edges, the gaze darkly reflective of triumph. Fresh sweat has broken across his skin; his nerves strum with impatience from hairline to groin. It doesn't matter. He's too absorbed by the picture Korra makes, dripping with heat and nearly bursting with urgency, tremors shooting up her belly and out her throat. The sounds excite him more, breaking hotly through the wells of his ears and seeming to tunnel straight down to his dick. ]

[ Spreading her sex with the V of his fingers, he fastens his mouth over her clit. Sucks it with a slow gathering pressure, while his thumb rubs the entrance to her vagina, playing with the delicate fringe of tissue. At the same time, he pushes a second slick finger into the puckered entrance of her anus, delving, prodding, while the rapid, almost relentless suckling of her clit continues. Her scent fills his lungs, makes his mind spin on an axis of wild silent sense-memory: seaside, soil, salt. A different body splayed beneath his gorging mouth, a different sex, framed in downy green hair and feeling distinctly more petal-soft and somehow more acrid-tasting across his tongue. ]

[ Forcibly, he shakes his head clear, refusing to let the memory stain this temporary lapse of sex with a reminder of time and mortality, bitterness and betrayal -- ideas that he desperately hopes to obliterate for a few moments at a time. ]

[anatural]

Not there! [She meant her vagina, not her butt! ...although that second finger, pushing her, stretching her, feels surprisingly good. It's exciting to learn new things about her body and what it's capable of doing.

Just a little harder... Just a little harder and she'll finally be able to come, with a force that could rip her body in two.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei can feel Korra's whole body vibrating faintly, a deep-seated tremor originating at the very heart of her. Years and years ago, before the stars fell from the sky, his childhood home had been within earshot of a busy railyard. As a precaution, his grandfather taught him to place his hand on the tracks before crossing: if the track trembled, it meant a train was near. That's how Korra's whole body feels: a section of track trembling before an approaching locomotive. ]

[ Fingers massaging the clenching heat of her ass, he concentrates only on her clit, tongue swirling it mercilessly, repeatedly, determined to drive her out of her skin with the shrill sensation. With his thumb, he dips between the weeping folds of her sex, angling it carefully until the hard knuckle finds the spongey surface of her g-spot. He rubs at it with a gentle but ruthless pressure, humming in his throat, low and dark and tar-thick, subsuming the secret flutters across her body with a different, discordant set of vibrations. Watching everything play out, all the while, across the hazy blue glints of her eyes, the abiding shiver of her body, the bright tension of her facial muscles. ]

[anatural]

[She's not even aware when her climax comes - her mind goes completely blank while her body seizes. She comes back to awareness slowly, her body still shuddering. It's another long moment before she realizes she's been screaming, and that those agonized whimpers are coming from her throat.

And she's sobbing. The intensity of her release is enough to bring tears to her eyes as she gasps for air. God that was amazing... She'd even tell him that if she could find the strength to talk, but her every muscle has been sapped of strength. The ties are the only things keeping her from melting into the bed.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Her scream makes Hei's breath rattle in his chest -- a wing-beat thumping rhythm. He stays with her through her climax, feeding on her helpless convulsions, her thighs taut and trembling against the bonds, watching with unblinking eyes as her body unravels into relaxation. His dick has been tormented to a blood-rouged fullness, and rolls hotly near the damp skin of his abs. Dropping one hand, he manhandles it with an unweildly sharpness, thumb squeezing the notched ache at the head, forcing the pressure to subside in dizzying stages. ]

[ Idly, his gaze drifts across Korra's replete body, the sweat-lank hair and flush-sheened skin, the tears trickling at the corners of her eyes. A picture of debauched satiation, a weakness that seems to have nothing to do with the tremors in her limbs or her sweet glow of exhaustion. ]

[ Hei waits until her pulse has slowed, her breaths coming long and low. Cupping a hand around her kneecaps, he runs his palms up her thighs, spreading them wide. Then he starts again. Lightly, delicately, he works her seeping, sensitive flesh. Takes great care not to over-stimulate or abrade; it wouldn't do to have raw nerves reduce her eagerness or add unneeded pain to the stimulation. Lapping at her entrance with the flat of his tongue, over and over, before flicking the tip across the swollen bead of her clit. Letting her feel the swollen juiciness of her own flesh, but not hurrying to fall into any particular rhythm -- or at least any that isn't his own. ]

[anatural]

[He's actually considering her eagerness and her pain? It would be unexpectedly thoughtful, if Korra registered he was doing it. As far as she can tell, he just enjoys torturing her. In the best ways, of course. She's definitely enjoyed the torture he's put her through (especially since he finally let her come), but she never thought he was going after anything but control.

She whimpers as he starts up again. She's never had a guy try to bring her to orgasm again when the first one has barely faded. She tugs hard on her bonds — not seriously trying to break free, but she's definitely feeling the frustration of limited mobility.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Who says consideration and control should preclude each other? It isn't that Hei is particularly interested in his partner's pleasure, unless there's something he's angling for, or unless he's especially fond of them. Since that mess with Amber, it's often difficult for him to care for anyone other than himself. But it's a matter of doing the goddamn job right, to his way of thinking. She isn't some whore he's paid for the night: the dynamic of those encounters is entirely distinct. As a trick, you're not there to satisfy the girl or make her feel good or show her a hot time. You're there to be serviced. Period. The pleasure is totally one sided: your side. Which is as it should be since you are paying for it. ]

[ Taking charge of a casual fling, though ... That's different. Being in the driver's seat doesn't excuse you from the responsibility of caring whether your partner gets off. The opposite: the obligation of when where how rests purely in your hands. He's known so many young men who purport that they're born wielding the whip hand, but who are just so immature and insecure about their skills in bed, they figure the way to avoid proving themselves is by completely ignoring their partner's experience, and hiding the tactic under the guise of being in charge. ]

[ That's just being a lousy lay. ]

[ She whimpers, and it's almost charming -- that pitch of sweet distress, as if she's an anguished kitten who won't get what she wants. Idly, he wonders if she's ever been eaten out by anyone with the patience to do it up properly -- or the brutal strength to hold her legs apart with or without restraints, so she can thrash and buck to her heart's content. Her sex is a dripping little peach under his lapping tongue, pouting through its sodden clump of curls. He'll probably find bothersome little hairs caught in his teeth afterwards -- but right now he's focused entirely on this. Winding her higher, then easing off, only to wind her higher again, until her breathing is that familiar, jittery apassionato jag. ]

[anatural]

[Of course they don't preclude each other, but everything she knows about him led her to believe he wouldn't care. The Black Reaper is the master of death... Who knew he was also a master in the bedroom?

And really good at making her scream, Jesus. She doesn't know whether she's going to lose her mind or her voice first. She gasps, babbles curses, and nearly jumps out of her skin when one of the bedposts cracks.]

...oops.

[mortemscintilla]

[ At the craaack, Hei blinks, jerking up, before his bewildered look is replaced by a quiet, half-shuttered amusement. She really is a fucking ball of destruction -- yet there's something so entrancingly childlike about her, so besotted and beautiful: the way she takes her pleasure like it's messy rough-and-tumble play -- pure joy -- and not the grim power-struggle it seems to be for most Contractors, punctuated by bizarre rituals and repulsive fetishes. ]

[ Or maybe it's Hei's sex life -- such as it is -- that's the anomaly, and he doesn't know why he's even thinking about this, but he likes her on her back, trembling and waiting. ]

[ He doesn't remark on the broken bedpost -- although that's going to come out of her cut later. Dragging her closer by her hips, he dips his head unseen to mouth her damp inner-thighs, her belly, the wet scrim of curls at her mons, before closing on the heat between her legs again in a soft wide kiss. He doesn't tease anymore. He hums right through her, a lewdly vile growl of impatience, his tongue dragging at her clit with rapid relentless flicks. Sometimes forcing her open with slick stabs of tongue, sometimes lapping at her from back to front, then in reverse, before sealing his entire mouth over her sex, sucking with a shamelessly fierce pressure as he works first one finger into her weeping entrance, then two, while his pinkie and ring finger nudge with gentle but possessive inroads into the pucker of her ass. ]

[anatural]

[This orgasm is even more intense than the first - the frustrated pressure from before replaced with traces of pain from her over sensitized flesh. It wrecks every bone in her body, leaving her genuinely helpless and weak.]

If you want to kill me... [She barely manages to get the words out, as breathless as she is.] Now would be the perfect time. I bet you kill all the girls like that.