[ She growls, and Hei's face melts into a light map of silent laughter. He can feel the impatience brimming in her, and that's a good sign. She was too quiet, before, and even now she is playing some foxing game; someone, apparently, who can succeed at submitting and being still, at relinquishing argument and effort. Or perhaps this is simply another kind of effort. She is so still, so disciplined in her motionlessness, that Hei privately marvels. If any one thing characterizes Korra, it is her kinetic energy, that vital force which betrays itself in near-constant motion, however muted. Whether draped across a couch after a tiring day, wedged bonelessly against him after sex, or sinking into the murk of boredom, she can't help but twitch, grimace, pout, paddle her feet, tug at her hair-ties and fiddle with her clothes like a sulky kitten. ]
[ Now, she is in complete repose, a boneless drape of flesh across bone, unmoving but not exactly easy. Not at ease, but at the ready. ]
[ Studiously, Hei avoids her warm pooched lips. Leans closer, instead, and lays a light kiss on her forehead, then spreads its dreamy wake to the curve of one brow. The orbital ridge is a hard furl under the skin, and he can feel the softness below -- the rich smooth fold of eyelid -- flicker with movement under his touch as he eases it closed. Meanwhile, below, his two fingers push deep, curling, dragging along the roof of her sex until the slippery texture changes subtly against the pads of his fingers, his thumb swiping over her soft-hard clit. ]
[ He wants to see how long she holds out. Tonight's conclusion is in no way forgone, but he wants to know how long she can keep challenging the impossibility of being able to stop him, or change anything. ]
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Date: 2014-07-21 12:17 am (UTC)[ Now, she is in complete repose, a boneless drape of flesh across bone, unmoving but not exactly easy. Not at ease, but at the ready. ]
[ Studiously, Hei avoids her warm pooched lips. Leans closer, instead, and lays a light kiss on her forehead, then spreads its dreamy wake to the curve of one brow. The orbital ridge is a hard furl under the skin, and he can feel the softness below -- the rich smooth fold of eyelid -- flicker with movement under his touch as he eases it closed. Meanwhile, below, his two fingers push deep, curling, dragging along the roof of her sex until the slippery texture changes subtly against the pads of his fingers, his thumb swiping over her soft-hard clit. ]
[ He wants to see how long she holds out. Tonight's conclusion is in no way forgone, but he wants to know how long she can keep challenging the impossibility of being able to stop him, or change anything. ]