[ Hei feels the scrape of her nails like a sharp tickle skittering along his thigh. Not the kind that makes you want to scratch but the kind that gives you a delicious little shiver. He acknowledges her hum with an appreciative grunt, even as he thrusts with a fraction more pressure against Korra's tongue, the back of her throat. Holding himself this way -- tense, restrained -- makes the muscles in his legs and abdomen twitch. But he doesn't segue into aggression. His eyes are half-closed, the lips parted, breathing in sharp, short, bursts of air. The hands at the back of her head rest lightly, fingers playing through her hair. Half-controlling, half-appreciative. ]
Good girl. [ It could so easily be condescending. But the tone of his voice is soft. Gratified. He strokes her hair with infinite patience, despite the tremors playing across his nerves. ] Go a little faster now.
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Good girl. [ It could so easily be condescending. But the tone of his voice is soft. Gratified. He strokes her hair with infinite patience, despite the tremors playing across his nerves. ] Go a little faster now.