[She wags her finger at him.] It was one sip. That you gave me. And I'm not going to break anything!
[She scoots away from him to settle down on the opposite side of the tub. She wouldn't actually mind getting out, but Hei gets his way far too often, and she's tipsy enough on exhaustion and heat to want to do something about it. She makes a face at him even as she tangles her legs with his and gently rubs her foot against his erection.]
So you say ... [ Ah. At the pressure of her foot, he sucks in a breath. His hand reaches down to grasp her ankle, but as soon as he catches it, his grip turns into a caress. The crook of his mouth is more amused and knowing than weighed by any real sense of annoyance. It's too easy to lean back against the tub, to melt into her touch with a hum. Through half-shuttered eyes, he takes her in: the long lines and soft curves, her wet hair dripping and skin flushed from the hot water. In the glow of the overhead lamps, her eyes are so blue; he notices their color over and over. Startling. Like the sea in those commercials for Caribbean cruises. ]
[ It'd be tempting to loll here awhile, absorbing the friction of her touch and the sensation of wet skin of his, the water frothing around them in a languorous, insinuating susurrus. Instead he catches her by both ankles and yanks her close, lifting her to straddle him, his erection caught between their bellies. Because: Korra, from a distance, all nut-brown and delicious: good. Korra up close, kissing him: better. And with the tactile component. ]
[Her grin is smug. She likes that look on his face. She rubs harder, using her toes to tease the head. She nibbles a little at her bottom lip as he caresses her ankle.
He's lucky she learned quickly how to compensate for the slippery tub, or his tug would have sent her flying back under the water. She grabs his shoulders to keep her balance as he lifts her up.]
A little warning next time.
[She wraps her arms around his neck and leans forward to capture his lips. (She may or may not have muttered Jerk against his mouth.)
Reflexes getting rusty? [ His half-smile to Korra isn't beguiling so much as challenging. But it's more sincere as a consequence. At the end of the day, seduction is for marks and toys. Competition -- the rough and tumble -- is a requisite between playmates (not partners; he doesn't do those, even now). Skimming his hands down her sides, he presses her closer still, sealing all space between them. Makes a low purl in reply to her mumbled Jerk, his lips teasing hers, before his mouth widens into a kiss that's sudden and fierce, edging on filthy. ]
[ It's no longer the steam that's making his head swim and his breathing hitch. His hands sitting at her waist, he marvels at the smallness of it, the solidity of her body, before he runs his thumbs over her ribs, then higher, palms sliding along the warm skin of her breasts. Taking them in both hands, he presses them hard together. Breaks the kiss to dip his head and lick a hot zigzag between her nipples before tugging one into his mouth. ]
[She'd retort but her tongue is busy. Besides, she's never liked fighting with words. She'd rather make her point with lips and teeth and nails. She squirms and grinds against his erection, spreading herself so that it rubs against her clit. Her breath is ragged, punctuated by little gasps and whimpers.
Oh. Oooooooh. She shivers as he moves his attention down to her breasts. The heat makes it hard to think, but she's not going to just give in and enjoy the ride. She reaches down to take hold of him. She grips him hard and strokes slowly, teasing the head with her thumb as her other hand rubs against his inner thigh.]
[ Hei makes a noise in the back of his throat as her hand closes around him, low and raspy and amused, something that he doesn't usually apply to many people. But the rhythm of her wet palm sends electric pulses of pleasure up and down his body's meridians, and the weight of her other hand on his inner-thigh -- a mass of nerve sensitivities -- affects him with a quiet shiver that arcs down his spine to every other point, a kind of fizz that lingers and doesn't let go. His breathing shifts with Korra's every stroke, and if that isn't enough to break the languid spell, then her sounds alone -- Fuck. ]
[ He molds both hands around her breasts, weighing them firmly, rubbing one nipple with his thumb while he bites and tongues at the other, pulling on it in an increase of wet suction that corresponds with how fast he's heating up. The sensations -- the impatience -- build and build; he feels that familiar burn at the base of his spine. A low hum accompanies the hard scrape of teeth along Korra's breast, Hei's hands dropping around her hips to hitch her just a little higher before he lets go. ]
Out of the tub, [ is all he says, just an exhale that somehow manages to sound forceful and sharp. ]
Not yet. [The words come out breathless. His voice is sharp but right now she doesn't care. He gets his way far too often for her liking. She picks up the pace of her hand and slides the hand on his thigh down to cup his balls. He's close to the edge; how close, she can't tell, but she can tell it's building fast. And she doesn't plan on leaving until she's brought him off to her satisfaction.]
[ She's gotten so damn contrary. It resonates with all of Hei's past flings with Contractors -- with Amber. Always jockeying for the upper-hand, playing games meant to leave one playmate triumphant, the other drowned and dizzy. It should disquiet him, except all it does is exhilarate. It gives him less excuse to hold back, for one. He grabs Korra first by the wrist, then the hand, fingers twining around his erection. It's not a tender gesture but one of control, a checkmated force. Except he doesn't stop her. Instead he shows her how to pick up the pace, wrist twisting sharply on the upstroke -- a rhythm that's blurred-fast and brutal but which suits him best, water sloshing around them. ]
[ Bit by bit, he feels the edge encroaching. The tightness in his belly and lower down. His head going light. A low rumble vibrates in his throat, and he slides his free hand up Korra's back, (nails too short for too much bite, but fingertips still hard, enough to bruise, to leave red stripes across the smooth skin) to cup her skull, grabbing a fistful of hair. If his lungs were properly online at this junction, it might be to exhale a curse, but instead he just tips his head up to snag Korra's mouth. It's not like any of his other kisses: there's dark streaks of aggression and blood there, a silent promise of Oh you'll pay and pay and pay before his breath whooshes out and into Korra's mouth in as near to frantic as Hei ever gets -- a shivery bright-red crest. ]
[There's no shaking off his iron grip to take back control of her hand; she adds just a little bit of nail to her strokes in revenge. The harsh tug on her hair and the force of his kiss make her dizzy, and it's hard to tell if she's more excited or scared at the violence they promise.
...excited. Definitely excited.
She feels him tremble and opens her eyes, pulling back just enough to get a good look at his face. She wants to watch him as he comes.]
[ It happens in stages solid enough to map -- although realistically it's just a few seconds. His head tips back against the lip of the tub, throat taut, whole body sharp all over -- ridges of ribs and rise of veins -- and he comes into the palm of her hand, slick and pearly white over their twined fingers even as he keeps her fist moving, showing her how to ease him through with longer, slower strokes. There’s a flush on the arc of his cheekbones now, his hair damp on his forehead and mouth red and swollen; he's almost breathless, but he seems -- satisfied. ]
[ Humming, he circles her tighter with one arm as if there's a remote possibility of her pulling away. Kisses her again -- not tender but rough, her lip sucked up beneath his teeth, feeling her pulse there, letting the kiss wrap them up in a prolonged moment of silence broken only by his gasping breaths and the bubbling water. ]
[ The lull is a deceptive one. He wonders if Korra can sense the energy of impending motion simmering under his skin. ]
[She loves the way he looks right now -- flushed and sweaty and satisfied. She lets go of him and the bubbling water soon rinses her hand clean. As he wraps his arm around her, Korra circles his neck, the better to press herself against him. This is good.
She lets out a little hum of protest when he presses a little too hard on a cut on her lip (when did she get that?). She can feel his marks all over her body -- the lingering sting of scratches and the dull aches of bruises -- but the night has hardly begun. The thought makes her lips twitch with barely-repressed excitement.
She pulls away, keeping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair.]
[ Despite the nerve-singing release, Hei's hunger -- sharp-toothed -- hasn't even begun to subside. Instead it resonates, the exact pitch and color of rain and desert thirst. He sees that matching light in Korra's eyes, and well, there's enough filth brewing in his head that he'd prefer inflicting on her sooner rather than later. Eyes dark, mouth a wry curl, he presses his thumb against a bruise in the hollow of her hip -- hard enough to hurt. Leans in to set his teeth against her pulsepoint. ]
And here I planned to drag you out upside down by your ankles. Mop your hair along the tiles and see what I'd pick up...
[ He'd do it too. But right now he settles for gathering her in tight before he rises, all at once, water splashing and rolling off them. He holds her balanced, her legs dangling, one arm under her and the other around her back. Not so simple to carry someone out of a slippery tub, but Hei has practice, so once he strikes the right balance, it's nothing. His feet track puddles from the mosaic tiles to the bathroom's marble, cool and white in counterpoint to him and Korra. Instead of hauling her to the bedroom, he plunks her down on the vanity next to the sink, the porcelain a hard chill on warm skin. ]
[The poke to her bruise hurts, but she doesn't even flinch. She just gives him a Look at his words. ]
Ow. Yeah, I bet a concussion would be really sexy.
[She tenses when he gathers her up -- WHAT IS HE THINKING SHE CAN GET OUT ON HER OWN GEEZ -- but she resists the urge to yelp or flail, not wanting to make this situation any more precarious than it already is. She doesn't even breathe until they're safely out and he sets her on the vanity.
That little stunt earns him another Look and a poke to his stomach.]
I know you're a big, strong man. Showing off's not necessary.
[ That Look again ...which one would it be? Oh right. Expression #243. The Knock It Off You're Being A Shit Face. He takes it, and the poking, in good part. (Sometimes he suspects he pulls these juvenile stunts only for the dubious pleasure of that look. It's too disquieting to get to know her on any other level, so he opts to spark the intimacy of her annoyance instead.) Smoothing her wet hair back from her face with both hands, he tucks it behind her ears. In the mirror, he's drippy and sloe-eyed; he enjoys the view of Korra's smooth planes of back, the curve of one breast and the snarls of dark hair weighed down by water against her skin. ]
[ Eyes skipping from her reflection to her face, he murmurs, mildly, ] If you hate being carried around, you might want to use a safe-word. [ Because he does like dragging and hauling his playmates around. Except. She probably wouldn't know what a safe-word is. ]
[She doesn't mind being carried around, really (she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the fluttering panic of muscle memory). But seriously. WET TILE. All's well that ends well but people accuse HER of being reckless.
[ Hei gathers her hair at the nape of her neck and wrings the water out. It's not deliberate so much as idle, half-distracted. Something curls quietly in his chest at her look, a vague feeling on the fringes of his awareness. (It's unease, maybe. She's still so naive about so many things. Outraged at being carried on wet tiles -- but perfectly happy to share a hotel room with a vicious stranger. Someone who's threatened her and her friends enough times.) ]
[ When he speaks, meeting her stare, his expression is dry. ] A safe-word. It's for a situation where you can't say No in the heat of the moment. But that word signifies that you want everything to stop. [ He doubts she'd understand the concept. Korra enjoys a rough-and-tumble, but on the whole she's dismally vanilla. The kinkiest she'd let him get would likely be anal sex -- actually, wait. In light of their tussles? Bloodplay. Give the girl some credit, she's growing up. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Hei's known people who had different degrees of safewords. Others who claimed never to need them. They're not just common in bedrooms. He's used them on assignments too to categorize the level of risk in an environment. Red. Yellow. Green. ]
[ He remembers, dimly, an old joke he'd heard as a teenager: Why did Jesus die on the cross? Because he forgot his safeword. Korra wouldn't get that either. ]
[Little known, perhaps, but hardly a stranger. Korra has an intuition about people, a sense for who she can trust and who she can't. It's the same intuition that told her younger self the snarling, angry, seemingly vicious (but in reality, frightened) polar bear dog cub was going to be her best friend. It's far from infallible, but on the whole, it's served her well.
She frowns at his explanation, puzzling it over.]
So, like, a random word? Like jackalope? [assuming he nods] Why would jackalope be any easier to remember than no?
[ Hei isn't a polar-bear dog cub. Animals are straightforward and simple. People rarely are. Certainly, a few positive encounters with strangers have done nothing to reshape Hei's experiences and worldview as a whole. Unpredictability is the underlying theme of all interactions -- in the Syndicate and elsewhere. At Korra's earnest question, he gives her a look -- a soft, strange look, as if to say, Tsk. When you start to trust a guy... ]
Sometimes people play games where No is part of the act. It doesn't actually mean No. Instead there's an alternative word that does. [ He spans a palm around her breast, thumbs the nipple lightly. The bathroom light is bright and stark, so that he can see faint red marks of his teeth around her skin. On her face, each hair of her dark brows and eyelashes is distinct. Some women owe their looks to shadows or posturing, but hers are true, even the unforgiving glare, and each warm curve corresponds to the press of his hands. ]
[ He's eager to resume their physical conversation, but at the same time, he's piqued by where the conversation is going. He wonders if he can redirect it to a path that suits him. A Let's try something new. ]
[ Hei hears that catch in her breath. His eyes dip, to his hand curled around her breast and then up again, a wry half-smile on his face. At her question, there's a pause. Twining the fingers of his free hand into her damp hair, he watches a water droplet glide down to the edge of her shoulder. Stoops slightly and catches it on the tip of his tongue, then retraced its path as far as her earlobe -- not seduction so much as pretend-playfulness, while he tries to marshal his thoughts. ]
Different reasons. For absolute control. For the absolute lack of it. Some of them want pain because it's cathartic. Others want to see how far they can take themselves -- or others -- to a. Subspace, I guess you'd call it. [ His fingers drum lightly against her breast. ] Sometimes it's not even about sex.
[She leans into his touch and instinctively hooks her legs around his, tugging him closer. She's too thoughtful for it to be a proper come-on, still distracted by trying to understand this game where "no" doesn't mean "no".]
Weird.
[She wraps her arms around his neck. She really doesn't understand the appeal, but she's always game to try new things.]
It's more common than you think. [ But he doesn't press the topic further. It's not the sort of activity you jump into all at once -- but cultivate in degrees. Hei operates on stealth and subtlety for moments like these; for spinning patient skeins of webs. He's willing to let the idea fester in her head for awhile. If she's still intrigued by it, they'll revisit it in a practical sense later. He lets her draw him in, arms and legs and bright-blue eyes. Dips to catch a few more clear droplets from her collarbone, then licks a line down her chest. Addresses himself to one nipple, then the other, biting gently, then harder. It's easy to get lost in this, to indulge in the number of whims skirting his mind regarding her; he isn't terribly interested in chatting anymore. ]
[ But he does draw back to murmur, ] You can stick to trying a safeword for now. If I do something you're uneasy with, say 'Jackalope.' [ Let her test the concept out, in an atmosphere she's familiar with -- sex on a rougher scale -- before they step into the complexities. ]
Jackalope. [There's a bit of a laugh in her voice.] Okay.
[And as nice as the attention he's paying her breasts feels, the cold tile is making her butt hurt. She slips to her feet, her hands running down his back to cup his ass while she leans up to kiss him.
She grins against his lips, hit with a sudden fit of mischief. Her hands slide from his ass to the back of his thighs and she lifts him up. (He's not the only one who can carry people around, after all.)
She makes a beeline for the bed. Will Hei let her make it there?]
[ She hefts him up and he bites back a curse at the suddenness of it, hands flying to her shoulders -- nothing dangerous or warning, just a moment's steadying. His eyebrows are knitted, seemingly unamused, but there's humor, unwillingly apparent, ticcing in the corners of his mouth. Even as she steps forward, he stretches back, something in his spine popping and he curves, his palms hitting the floor -- a backward somersault that tugs his legs free from her grasp, pinwheeling over his head and to plant neatly on the floor. Straightforward, no flourish. ]
[ Lots of others would've looked ridiculous, so much flexibility and no clothes on. But not Hei. He gets more comfortable with every layer he strips off -- even if those layers are only literal. The canopied bed is large and plush, the stained-glass lamps on either endtable lit, casting multicolored light on the expanse of white linen. Hei stands at the foot, one arm wrapped around one tall post. There's something sharp and playful in the tilt of his head. ]
This is the part where I complain about feeling emasculated. [ Except he's not, really. ]
Hey! [She has to admire that flexibility, though, even as she's tempted to laugh at the little pose he strikes. She crosses her arms and feigns a distinctly unimpressed look.]
I've carried tougher men than you around.
[Okay, maybe not tougher, but bigger, yeah. It was one of her favorite pranks to play on the big tough White Lotus guards.]
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[She scoots away from him to settle down on the opposite side of the tub. She wouldn't actually mind getting out, but Hei gets his way far too often, and she's tipsy enough on exhaustion and heat to want to do something about it. She makes a face at him even as she tangles her legs with his and gently rubs her foot against his erection.]
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[ It'd be tempting to loll here awhile, absorbing the friction of her touch and the sensation of wet skin of his, the water frothing around them in a languorous, insinuating susurrus. Instead he catches her by both ankles and yanks her close, lifting her to straddle him, his erection caught between their bellies. Because: Korra, from a distance, all nut-brown and delicious: good. Korra up close, kissing him: better. And with the tactile component. ]
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He's lucky she learned quickly how to compensate for the slippery tub, or his tug would have sent her flying back under the water. She grabs his shoulders to keep her balance as he lifts her up.]
A little warning next time.
[She wraps her arms around his neck and leans forward to capture his lips. (She may or may not have muttered Jerk against his mouth.)
action;
[ It's no longer the steam that's making his head swim and his breathing hitch. His hands sitting at her waist, he marvels at the smallness of it, the solidity of her body, before he runs his thumbs over her ribs, then higher, palms sliding along the warm skin of her breasts. Taking them in both hands, he presses them hard together. Breaks the kiss to dip his head and lick a hot zigzag between her nipples before tugging one into his mouth. ]
action;
Oh. Oooooooh. She shivers as he moves his attention down to her breasts. The heat makes it hard to think, but she's not going to just give in and enjoy the ride. She reaches down to take hold of him. She grips him hard and strokes slowly, teasing the head with her thumb as her other hand rubs against his inner thigh.]
action;
[ He molds both hands around her breasts, weighing them firmly, rubbing one nipple with his thumb while he bites and tongues at the other, pulling on it in an increase of wet suction that corresponds with how fast he's heating up. The sensations -- the impatience -- build and build; he feels that familiar burn at the base of his spine. A low hum accompanies the hard scrape of teeth along Korra's breast, Hei's hands dropping around her hips to hitch her just a little higher before he lets go. ]
Out of the tub, [ is all he says, just an exhale that somehow manages to sound forceful and sharp. ]
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[ Bit by bit, he feels the edge encroaching. The tightness in his belly and lower down. His head going light. A low rumble vibrates in his throat, and he slides his free hand up Korra's back, (nails too short for too much bite, but fingertips still hard, enough to bruise, to leave red stripes across the smooth skin) to cup her skull, grabbing a fistful of hair. If his lungs were properly online at this junction, it might be to exhale a curse, but instead he just tips his head up to snag Korra's mouth. It's not like any of his other kisses: there's dark streaks of aggression and blood there, a silent promise of Oh you'll pay and pay and pay before his breath whooshes out and into Korra's mouth in as near to frantic as Hei ever gets -- a shivery bright-red crest. ]
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...excited. Definitely excited.
She feels him tremble and opens her eyes, pulling back just enough to get a good look at his face. She wants to watch him as he comes.]
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[ Humming, he circles her tighter with one arm as if there's a remote possibility of her pulling away. Kisses her again -- not tender but rough, her lip sucked up beneath his teeth, feeling her pulse there, letting the kiss wrap them up in a prolonged moment of silence broken only by his gasping breaths and the bubbling water. ]
[ The lull is a deceptive one. He wonders if Korra can sense the energy of impending motion simmering under his skin. ]
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She lets out a little hum of protest when he presses a little too hard on a cut on her lip (when did she get that?). She can feel his marks all over her body -- the lingering sting of scratches and the dull aches of bruises -- but the night has hardly begun. The thought makes her lips twitch with barely-repressed excitement.
She pulls away, keeping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair.]
Now we can get out of the tub.
action;
And here I planned to drag you out upside down by your ankles. Mop your hair along the tiles and see what I'd pick up...
[ He'd do it too. But right now he settles for gathering her in tight before he rises, all at once, water splashing and rolling off them. He holds her balanced, her legs dangling, one arm under her and the other around her back. Not so simple to carry someone out of a slippery tub, but Hei has practice, so once he strikes the right balance, it's nothing. His feet track puddles from the mosaic tiles to the bathroom's marble, cool and white in counterpoint to him and Korra. Instead of hauling her to the bedroom, he plunks her down on the vanity next to the sink, the porcelain a hard chill on warm skin. ]
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Ow. Yeah, I bet a concussion would be really sexy.
[She tenses when he gathers her up -- WHAT IS HE THINKING SHE CAN GET OUT ON HER OWN GEEZ -- but she resists the urge to yelp or flail, not wanting to make this situation any more precarious than it already is. She doesn't even breathe until they're safely out and he sets her on the vanity.
That little stunt earns him another Look and a poke to his stomach.]
I know you're a big, strong man. Showing off's not necessary.
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[ Eyes skipping from her reflection to her face, he murmurs, mildly, ] If you hate being carried around, you might want to use a safe-word. [ Because he does like dragging and hauling his playmates around. Except. She probably wouldn't know what a safe-word is. ]
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She blinks at him, confused.]
A what now?
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[ When he speaks, meeting her stare, his expression is dry. ] A safe-word. It's for a situation where you can't say No in the heat of the moment. But that word signifies that you want everything to stop. [ He doubts she'd understand the concept. Korra enjoys a rough-and-tumble, but on the whole she's dismally vanilla. The kinkiest she'd let him get would likely be anal sex -- actually, wait. In light of their tussles? Bloodplay. Give the girl some credit, she's growing up. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Hei's known people who had different degrees of safewords. Others who claimed never to need them. They're not just common in bedrooms. He's used them on assignments too to categorize the level of risk in an environment. Red. Yellow. Green. ]
[ He remembers, dimly, an old joke he'd heard as a teenager: Why did Jesus die on the cross? Because he forgot his safeword. Korra wouldn't get that either. ]
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She frowns at his explanation, puzzling it over.]
So, like, a random word? Like jackalope? [assuming he nods] Why would jackalope be any easier to remember than no?
[She doesn't get it. But color her curious.]
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Sometimes people play games where No is part of the act. It doesn't actually mean No. Instead there's an alternative word that does. [ He spans a palm around her breast, thumbs the nipple lightly. The bathroom light is bright and stark, so that he can see faint red marks of his teeth around her skin. On her face, each hair of her dark brows and eyelashes is distinct. Some women owe their looks to shadows or posturing, but hers are true, even the unforgiving glare, and each warm curve corresponds to the press of his hands. ]
[ He's eager to resume their physical conversation, but at the same time, he's piqued by where the conversation is going. He wonders if he can redirect it to a path that suits him. A Let's try something new. ]
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Why?
[She doesn't sound disgusted or judgmental, just...legitimately confused.]
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Different reasons. For absolute control. For the absolute lack of it. Some of them want pain because it's cathartic. Others want to see how far they can take themselves -- or others -- to a. Subspace, I guess you'd call it. [ His fingers drum lightly against her breast. ] Sometimes it's not even about sex.
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Weird.
[She wraps her arms around his neck. She really doesn't understand the appeal, but she's always game to try new things.]
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[ But he does draw back to murmur, ] You can stick to trying a safeword for now. If I do something you're uneasy with, say 'Jackalope.' [ Let her test the concept out, in an atmosphere she's familiar with -- sex on a rougher scale -- before they step into the complexities. ]
action;
[And as nice as the attention he's paying her breasts feels, the cold tile is making her butt hurt. She slips to her feet, her hands running down his back to cup his ass while she leans up to kiss him.
She grins against his lips, hit with a sudden fit of mischief. Her hands slide from his ass to the back of his thighs and she lifts him up. (He's not the only one who can carry people around, after all.)
She makes a beeline for the bed. Will Hei let her make it there?]
action;
[ She hefts him up and he bites back a curse at the suddenness of it, hands flying to her shoulders -- nothing dangerous or warning, just a moment's steadying. His eyebrows are knitted, seemingly unamused, but there's humor, unwillingly apparent, ticcing in the corners of his mouth. Even as she steps forward, he stretches back, something in his spine popping and he curves, his palms hitting the floor -- a backward somersault that tugs his legs free from her grasp, pinwheeling over his head and to plant neatly on the floor. Straightforward, no flourish. ]
[ Lots of others would've looked ridiculous, so much flexibility and no clothes on. But not Hei. He gets more comfortable with every layer he strips off -- even if those layers are only literal. The canopied bed is large and plush, the stained-glass lamps on either endtable lit, casting multicolored light on the expanse of white linen. Hei stands at the foot, one arm wrapped around one tall post. There's something sharp and playful in the tilt of his head. ]
This is the part where I complain about feeling emasculated. [ Except he's not, really. ]
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I've carried tougher men than you around.
[Okay, maybe not tougher, but bigger, yeah. It was one of her favorite pranks to play on the big tough White Lotus guards.]
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