[ Hei knows how finite Korra's patience is. When she knees his side, it's less a reminder than a charming display of evidence. With a smile, he drags two fingers across her clit, rough pressure and damp friction, before removing his hand. He brings the wet shiny fingers to his mouth, watching her from under half-closed eyelids as he sucks them clean. She tastes musky and sharp like when a spade first slices into grass and fresh loam. The trigger is instant; his erection throbs drunkenly against his belly, and saliva pools his mouth. He tries to be goal focused and sensible; the more he teases Korra, the noisier she'll get. It's smarter to get down to the fucking. Make it quiet and quick and kiss-muffled. Get off, hopefully get her off too, then send her away. But it is difficult not to get waylaid by the sheer pleasure of being in contact with her skin, warm and lovely -- or to forgo the gorgeous taste of her, a ready welling of slickness between her thighs. ]
[ Hei tips his head back, shuts his eyes and exhales. One hand stays pinned over her mouth. With the other, he reaches for the carved wooden box next to the dansu. A click, and then Korra will feel an unexpected and completely weird press of cold on her middle. He's taken the small stones from his wei-qi set -- glossy black slate and white shell -- and put one right on top of her belly button. He plucks another two and arranges them playfully in a line going up toward her diaphragm, as intent as a boy with a set of blocks.]
Don't jostle.
[ It's murmured as he mouths her hipbones, delicate ridges stretching dark skin, a protrusion to nibble on, before he ducks his head between her widespread thighs. ]
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Date: 2014-03-21 03:28 am (UTC)[ Hei tips his head back, shuts his eyes and exhales. One hand stays pinned over her mouth. With the other, he reaches for the carved wooden box next to the dansu. A click, and then Korra will feel an unexpected and completely weird press of cold on her middle. He's taken the small stones from his wei-qi set -- glossy black slate and white shell -- and put one right on top of her belly button. He plucks another two and arranges them playfully in a line going up toward her diaphragm, as intent as a boy with a set of blocks.]
Don't jostle.
[ It's murmured as he mouths her hipbones, delicate ridges stretching dark skin, a protrusion to nibble on, before he ducks his head between her widespread thighs. ]