[ He says it hazily, raspily. Accidentally. Hoping Korra won't catch the train of thought it has erupted from -- It's easier to make demands on you when all I know is how to take and use. That it's easier -- the risky lingerie, the grated knuckles, the back alley brawls with bruised lips and muffled cries. Because it's the only thing he can give her. (Anything but what's good for her?) Not that it helps. Not that it stops the feelings that develop -- fester -- when the touching is over. When the marks have faded beneath the skin, into the bone, into the ghostly webbing that connects them. ]
[ He tries not to think about it. Just hums his slow approval, changing his rhythm, a deep hard gyration, jouncing her body hard against the cement. Each thrust fills her to the mouth of her womb. Meanwhile his lips drag a moist trail along her breasts. He rakes his teeth along the length of one nipple before gorging on it, a hot wet vacuum. His left hand anchors her lower-back; the right slips between them, rubbing and circling a thumb against her swollen clit. Her aroma fills his sensorium, strong and sweet, seeming to overlap the olfactory landscape all around them -- dust and dampness and stale air. ]
no subject
[ He says it hazily, raspily. Accidentally. Hoping Korra won't catch the train of thought it has erupted from -- It's easier to make demands on you when all I know is how to take and use. That it's easier -- the risky lingerie, the grated knuckles, the back alley brawls with bruised lips and muffled cries. Because it's the only thing he can give her. (Anything but what's good for her?) Not that it helps. Not that it stops the feelings that develop -- fester -- when the touching is over. When the marks have faded beneath the skin, into the bone, into the ghostly webbing that connects them. ]
[ He tries not to think about it. Just hums his slow approval, changing his rhythm, a deep hard gyration, jouncing her body hard against the cement. Each thrust fills her to the mouth of her womb. Meanwhile his lips drag a moist trail along her breasts. He rakes his teeth along the length of one nipple before gorging on it, a hot wet vacuum. His left hand anchors her lower-back; the right slips between them, rubbing and circling a thumb against her swollen clit. Her aroma fills his sensorium, strong and sweet, seeming to overlap the olfactory landscape all around them -- dust and dampness and stale air. ]