[ A vague deja vu bubbles up. He hasn't done this since that night Korra stabbed Chekov. Over the aroma of cedar and oranges, he can almost smell the tang of metallic blood and spent stress that'd clung to Korra. She hadn't been willing so much as disquietingly pliant then. Tears pearling her face, mixing with the water, salty and muted on his tongue. ]
[ This is a thousand times better. Mouthing the crook of her neck, he scrubs her nape and shoulders briskly, working his way down and up her body. Runnels of soap crisscross her skin, white on dark. Nothing goes without attention; the delicate dents behind her ears, the pits of arms and elbows, the hollow at the base of her spine, the whorl of navel and slippery undersides of her breasts. One frothy arm winds around her waist, keeping her close. The other glides between her thighs, cupping between them, making sure everything's clean without slipping the soapy fingers into her. His cock is hard and nestled warm against her belly; he runs his fingers along her cleft with long, steady strokes. ]
[ Salt; bathwater; skin -- all alive on his tongue as he kisses Korra anywhere he can reach. What a strange summation of an evening. ]
no subject
[ This is a thousand times better. Mouthing the crook of her neck, he scrubs her nape and shoulders briskly, working his way down and up her body. Runnels of soap crisscross her skin, white on dark. Nothing goes without attention; the delicate dents behind her ears, the pits of arms and elbows, the hollow at the base of her spine, the whorl of navel and slippery undersides of her breasts. One frothy arm winds around her waist, keeping her close. The other glides between her thighs, cupping between them, making sure everything's clean without slipping the soapy fingers into her. His cock is hard and nestled warm against her belly; he runs his fingers along her cleft with long, steady strokes. ]
[ Salt; bathwater; skin -- all alive on his tongue as he kisses Korra anywhere he can reach. What a strange summation of an evening. ]