When you have to go there...

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Korra moves in to Hei's place.

[ He's found an old loft not too far from the beach, strangely customized by a few generations of previous tenants. Tucked away among the sand dunes and flapping palms, it takes a while to find the strange cedar building, low and spread out like a child's blocks jumbled into the hillside, windows flashing like jewels. There's a set of wooden steps up the side of the building, turning from flight to flight like a fire escape, and a boarded genkan walkway along the bricked side that brings any visitors (or intruders) to an open area of the roof, enclosed by low walls. Deck furniture, crates, a few legacy plants that survive on rain. A good place to sit out at night and watch the stars -- or to spring a well-placed trap on trespassers. ]

[ Inside it's bigger than expected, but it's sectioned off by shoji, and the sections are cozy. (Well, cozy is what came to Hei's mind the first time he saw it, dry and ironic because any other meaning was too complicated to explain.) A dark-laqured kitchen area with an antique keyaki-wood hibachi; a livingroom made airy and pale by the paper blinds of joined squares of crumpled washi; a narrow bedroom with sea-blue walls and a moon-window with dark bamboo lattices, but bare of anything except a wide futon and a nightstand. Everything runs together except where retaining walls and counters and furniture and a few stone columns mark one part of the loft from another. ]

[ Further down, there is a lot of empty floorspace that once might have been a tatami room. Had the loft been occupied by a family, this would have been the location of the kotatsu, its heavy quilted skirt draping to the floor and an electric brazier radiating cheerfully, their legs tucked comfortably under the quilted skirt as they gossiped about the neighbors and griped about the household bills. Now, it serves as a training room. A floor of polished but pitted boards covered by dull gray mats. A weight bench. A punching bag. A pommel horse. A trapeze rig with a bright tangle of aerial silks. The only truly bizarre item in the mini-dojo is a wooden wing-chun training dummy, about the dimensions of a large man, which Hei has placed in the corner. It keeps his reflexes sharp and the striking surfaces of his hands callused and hard, and allows him to practice some of the deadlier strikes and blocks he'd neglect to some degree while training in a real dojo. ]

[ It would make an interesting conversation piece, if anyone ever visits the apartment. But mostly, Hei's hoping Korra won't find it too unnerving. ]

[ He's already sent her a passcode to disarm the security system at the door. (It only works once, so if it falls into the wrong hands, it's useless.) He's also taken tomorrow off work. Half to help her move any extra stuff in. And half because, well ...  he's planning to say hello to her until they can't say hello anymore. ]

Comments

[anatural]

[She wriggles her hips until his erection is flush against her clit, then starts grinding herself against it. There's an absurd little grin of pleasure on her face — she almost never manages to take him completely by surprise like this.]

Would you really want it to? [The only fun thing she can see about forcing your partner to keep still is the force of the inevitable explosion.]

[mortemscintilla]

No...

[ His breath braids painfully between the words. She grinds against him, and Hei can feel his nerves arrowing a trickling heat to his groin. Stirring against her is automatic; it is as if a spark arcs through his wiring to make the full connection. His hands, both unsteady and greedy, caress her spine, knead her hips, thumbs grazing close to her center but never touching. ]

[ It would be easy to tumble her over, to resume his game. But she looks, in the bluntest possible terms, incredibly fuckable, and he can't help but trace her lazily with a map of ownership. A thumb strokes along the band of her panties, and then his palm dips lower to cup and squeeze her through the wet cotton. Both a distraction, and a reminder that he was just getting her warmed up. ]

[anatural]

[Oh, she's plenty warm. She removes her arms from around his neck so she can safely burn off the bindings. Her hands free again, she grabs his wrists to bring them up over his head.]

Now what should I do with you?

[mortemscintilla]

[ He'd protest at the pretty fabric going up in a puff of acrid smoke. He was planning to use it again if given the opportunity. Instead, he merely offers her a quirked brow as she pins his wrists over his head. Ordinarily, Hei detests this position. The overtones of Boxed in and Trapped gain such volume and resonance as to become clamoring parodies of themselves. But with Korra, he's learnt to school himself against resisting. His mind might be wired for combat, but for all her aggressive posturings, the almost feline ferocity, things with Korra have evolved to a delightful tussle more than a real battle. ]

[ So he stays under her, watchful and patient; illusory Zen-like qualities that can segue in an instant to reveal an interior wildness, darker and in no way calm. ]

[ Wryly, ]

Something tells me you're going to do as you like.

[anatural]

[Lesson number one: Never tie Korra up with something you plan to keep. She leans down to kiss him, chiding him with a nip to his lip.]

There are a lot of things I like, though... [It's really quite a dilemma. She could slip him inside right now quite happily, but she also likes the idea of kissing him all over and then giving him a blowjob. She could also go for a little anal.... So many things to do, so much time to do them, but where to start? ]

Pick a number between one and five.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Guessing games? ]

[ He makes an amused, fuzzy sound, and smiles his small, unreadable smile. How convenient for them both, that a lot of the things he likes mesh so delightfully with what Korra does. He imagines her riding on top, hair swinging down as she tilts her head, the sharpness of her clavicle as she leans toward him. Ripe heavy breasts. Lips parted. Eyes like Curaçao or the burnt-out blue edges of a stormy sea. Imagines her face down on the futon, gasping into a pillow and letting the sweet slicked seam of her body open up to his, bang, bang, bang, nailed to completion, leaving her a tossed mess, hair exploded in sex-tangles, his cock like a split dandelion stem inside her divine heat, ripe and spilling milk. ]

[ Images and ideas whirl through him in a dizzy-making roulette, and for a moment he's at a loss, spoiled for choice. ]

[ Eventually, contemplatively: ]

...Three.

[ A not-so-arbitrary choice. He's always liked threes. (He also hates them.) ]

[anatural]

[...flaw in plan — she can't remember what three was. Was it him going down on her? Except she doesn't want to give up being on top. Umm... She scoots back so that she's still sitting on his legs, but he can sit up and bend forward.]

How horribly uncomfortable would this be? [She rubs her clit with her fingers to indicate what she wants him to do. If it would even work. Maybe she should've just gone for the blowjob.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Propping himself up of his elbows, Hei watches her touch herself, mesmerized for a moment, then gets the message. Waves of hot blood bubble across his scalp, his dick. It would be so easy to roll them over, to strip his boxers and her panties off, and sink into her until all the shrill noise thronging in his brain like crazy flies whites out into imperfect silence. ]

[ Instead, not replying, he reaches out, manhandling her with a careless, yet somehow tender efficiency. In a minute she's sprawled across him back to front; his fingers tangle in the elastic of her panties, ripping them off with a wrench of fabric and a snap like bubblegum, giving him a view between her wide-spread thighs, of the pucker of her ass, and her glistening sex, the clit peeking reddened and swollen from its curly little pooch. ]

I like this better.

[ The greed in his words is so low and raw his voice comes out like a scrape of glass on gravel. He doesn't give her a chance to reply. Just seizes her hips, dragging her closer to force her sex open with thick, slippery stabs of his tongue. ]

[anatural]

HEY! [She squawks and flails her arms as he suddenly yanks her onto her back. She can feel his voice on her skin; it's an effort not to moan at the thrill it sends through her.]

That's not — [She doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence before his tongue is there and all thought flies out the window. ]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei grips tight to her hips until he feels the hard scrape of bone beneath the press of his brutal fingers. Bites her wherever he can reach. Her thigh. Her hipbone. A mottling of dark blotches along her spine, right across the curve of her ass. And there, he bites especially hard, not a nip, but holding the soft skin between his teeth. Both his palms skim along the soft skin of her thighs, her buttocks, roughly squeezing and massaging. This close, he can smell her, a tart and gorgeous fug. With one hand, he grips her steady. With the other, he spreads her lips to lap first at her clit -- a series of long, sloppy sweeps -- before placing hot wet kisses all along her seam, down and up, before dragging her flush against his open mouth, his tongue fucking deep into her. ]

[ He wants to hear her cry out, beg, the sound and sight of her melting something in him; he can already feel it going, a piece of himself softening like caramel under a flame. ]

[anatural]

[Each bite brings a spark of pleasure-pain that threatens to set her entire body aflame. No more channeling her earthbending training — she feels more like a forest fire than anything as sedate as a landslide. She claws the sheets, pants, whimpers, whines, and every stroke of his tongue stokes the flames consuming her.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei's hands flex on the smooth jut of her hips and then tighten, muscles twitching in his arms as he drags her up close, lifting his knees up so she can't escape backwards and pulling her flush against his mouth. The sight of her balanced precariously over him, her back arched and taut as a bow, knees dipping the mattress ... It's like being dragged by a salty, blood-warm undertow, even as he anchors himself to the deadweight of self-control. ]

[ He stays with her, tracing circles with his tongue. Licking her sex all over, languid, greedy. Teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue, drawing her inner-lips into his mouth and sucking on them, before dragging a heavy path down to her entrance. Learning what makes her tremble, jerk, mewl, but keeping her teetering at the very tip of orgasm. Time stretches out like an unfurling hand-fan. But he refuses to fall to impatience or impulse. He keeps at it for ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. His jaw is going to be sore when this is over, his tongue aching. But it'll be worth it, to have Korra's pretty cries twisting into his brain like a glittering corkscrew, filling his whole body with bright whorling cramps of want. ]

[anatural]

[Twenty minutes of this relentless torture? Twenty minutes of building her up but not letting her come? You really are a cruel bastard, Hei, and she is going to make you pay for this. One day. After her climax finally hits and she screams, writhing and shuddering and blinded by pleasure.

Yeah, she'll get you. When she can move her body again.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei grips her tightly as she rides out her climax, hearing her gasps give up into those high, shrill cries of relief indistinguishable from pain. His fingers stencil bruises into her hips as she rocks and rolls, seeming to strike out blindly with all her limbs like a child in a tantrum, challenging his ability to keep his grip. Watching her, he can feel himself, swollen and trapped, leaking hard into his briefs and soaking the fabric. He shudders, close, driven closer each moment by Korra's tremors and cries. ]

[ When she's nearly ceased to shake, he lets her go, letting her flop back to sprawl beside him. Twisting, panting, he drapes himself across her, excitement racing up his spine like lit gunpowder, a bright and lively ache that ebbs to a low-down hum inside his skin. Nuzzling her hair, teasing her ear with his lips, flicking his tongue out and divining its whorled cup, he feels it spreading through him in slow, sonorous waves. ]

[anatural]

[She still has bones, right? Korra kind of feels like she's missing her skeleton now. She smiles as he flops on top of her.]

You haven't done that in awhile. [The 20 minute sexual torture, she means.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's not done making her forget her bones. He plans to fuck her a time or two, until she's well and truly boneless. Filet of Korra. And hopefully get pretty well boned himself. They can bone each other's bones out. ]

[ Heh. ]

[ He hides the juvenile thoughts behind a faint, off-kilter smile. Tumbling her back and pushing up her knees, he reaches between them, hand trembling, and manages to wrench his boxers down and off. He takes himself in hand and squeezes hard, forcing himself to ease down a few notches; he sees stars, but is mostly successful. ]

[ Breathless, distracted, he murmurs, ]

That a complaint? Or a request for an encore?

[anatural]

Mmmm.....both? [Complaint that he doesn't do it enough, maybe? She wiggles back against him, distantly miffed at being thus manhandled but still floating too high on orgasm to much care.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei knows he should let her catch her breath a moment, grab a condom, then get down to business. But something -- either her words or the feel of that damp warm scrim between her thighs, redirects his focus. ]

[ Without answering her, he kisses her -- hard, lingering, lush. Twists down the futon, wedging between Korra's widespread legs, kissing a long line of salty-sweet skin along the way. A hand on each knee, he parts her thighs, then dips his head. Teases her there with kisses, too soft, too trancey, to do more that stir her attention, licking her clit with a soft patience from where it peeks between the slicked curls and flushed lips. Gaze flicking up the line of her body with a quiet, burning focus, seeing if she'll allow this, or nudge him off. ]

[anatural]

[That gets a laugh and a squirm out of her, and she tries to push him away gently.]

I didn't mean right now! You'll rub all my skin off. [Twenty minutes, Hei. Her vagina needs some alone time. She tugs him up for more kisses.] And probably break your jaw.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei makes a noise in his throat, either protest or amusement, as she tugs him up. He leans forwards, nibbles her upper lip, tongue curling lightly into her mouth. Over and over. Barely-there kisses. Meanwhile his cock rubs and slides against her damp skin, hot bare kindling. Reaching down, he takes her wrist, wrapping her little fingers around his length and exhaling a whuff of excited breath into their parted mouths. ]

[ Softly, ]

Guess you could work out your jaw instead.

[ Or whatever part she's willing to utilize, until he gets that warm small mouth wrapped around his cock. ]

[anatural]

I could... [She strokes him slowly, teasing the head with her palm.] Depending on how you asked.

[mortemscintilla]

[ She strokes him, and Hei's vision goes white and shaky around the edges. He can feel his pulse become liquid sound, beating hotly in his ears, down his spine and through his groin. Beads of precome bubble eagerly at the tip of his erection, slicking her palm. ]

What if I said 'Please'?

[ It's whispered muzzily, indulgently, his hips moving in a suggestive grind. ]

[anatural]

Then I'd say "get off me." [And she pushes him.

After all, this isn't the ideal blowjob position.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei lets off the breath he doesn't realize he's been holding, a half-smile that lights two dull blue coins in his eyes. Loosening his grip, he spills obligingly onto his back, all fluid muscle and floppy hair, his erection a slick-tipped arch of flesh. He's got that look, the one that says he really has no inhibitions, four syllables unnatural to his body, yet there's something open -- raw -- in his gaze that's at odds with the practiced precision of his posture. ]

[ He reaches out, a handful of Korra's soft hair and the warm solid curve of her skull against his palm. But he doesn't force or shove. He leans in, a moist nuzzle of lips against hers, before he draws away, letting his hand rest at her nape like a reassurance more than an imperative. ]

[ Letting her take this at her own pace. ]

[anatural]

[She kisses her way down his chest, loving the way it feels to have him under her. She's always felt powerful giving blowjobs. He's not in control right now. He could try to take control from her if he wanted, but as long as her teeth are that close to his most sensitive place, she has the final say. (Distantly she wonders if that's why he eats her out more than she blows him — because he'd rather be in control of her pleasure than make himself vulnerable.)

In a fit of goofy playfulness, she nuzzles his erection like a kitten. It's strange how the same skin feels different against her cheek than her hands. She presses a few quick kisses to the shaft before turning her full attention to his so often-neglected balls.]