[ Swallowing his wild urge towards gratitude, Hei kisses her again -- a wet, half-drunken flutter. He can't explain how his patterns have changed -- or maybe submerged -- since he's gotten together with Korra. Sometimes, late at night, when he replays their past encounters, it sours his stomach: each memory speaks of hard-edged, utilitarian lust, the desperate kind that takes place in alleyways and murky peepshow theaters. Light tortures, small selfish cruelties -- anything to keep her on a frenzied string. Or maybe a psychological leash. ]
[ Falling in love -- being forced to give instead of take -- puts responsibility on him, makes him saner, clear-eyed, gentler, yet somehow more vulnerably jittery. He doesn't know, and isn't terribly interested in contemplating it. Swallowing, he gathers her close against him, creating tiny waves which lap at both their bodies. Her little hand is wrapped like a hot ribbon around his prick: it is as heated and tense as ever, yet his kisses soften, lose their thread of urgent demand. He tastes her mouth, draws a hand through her hair, wanting, more than pleasure and release, to experience her. ]
[ Carefully, he leans back, Korra cradled in his arms. The knobs of his knees rise above the waterline like whitened stadium domes; his erection is a pulsing bar between their wet bellies. One arm curls loosely around her torso, his right hand working in finger-crunching little spasms that suggest a vast impatience. But the left strokes languidly up her flank, across the breasts that sag down against her ribs. He cups one, thumb rubbing across the bruised-plum blush of the areola, and lifts it to his mouth. Suckling hard, scraping the nipple with his teeth, he stirs experimentally beneath her -- and inhales sharply through his nose as his erection glides across the wet-velvet heat of her stomach. ]
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Date: 2015-07-14 10:15 pm (UTC)[ Falling in love -- being forced to give instead of take -- puts responsibility on him, makes him saner, clear-eyed, gentler, yet somehow more vulnerably jittery. He doesn't know, and isn't terribly interested in contemplating it. Swallowing, he gathers her close against him, creating tiny waves which lap at both their bodies. Her little hand is wrapped like a hot ribbon around his prick: it is as heated and tense as ever, yet his kisses soften, lose their thread of urgent demand. He tastes her mouth, draws a hand through her hair, wanting, more than pleasure and release, to experience her. ]
[ Carefully, he leans back, Korra cradled in his arms. The knobs of his knees rise above the waterline like whitened stadium domes; his erection is a pulsing bar between their wet bellies. One arm curls loosely around her torso, his right hand working in finger-crunching little spasms that suggest a vast impatience. But the left strokes languidly up her flank, across the breasts that sag down against her ribs. He cups one, thumb rubbing across the bruised-plum blush of the areola, and lifts it to his mouth. Suckling hard, scraping the nipple with his teeth, he stirs experimentally beneath her -- and inhales sharply through his nose as his erection glides across the wet-velvet heat of her stomach. ]