The Afterglow
Asami trembled, spent, as she lifted herself from Korra's fingers with great effort. Then, after Korra had splayed her arms wide to either side, Asami folded forward over her bicep, forehead pressed into the mattress right next to said muscle. Her body still twitched and jolted from time to time, and her legs still writhed against Korra's the slightest bit.
With a lazy, satisfied smile, she pressed a kiss to the sweat-slicked skin of Korra's arm—or maybe it was her shoulder, she couldn't be sure—perplexed when the sensation registered in her own mind. She grunted discontentedly and, lips pursed, raised her head just enough to see the spot she'd just pressed her lips to.
Asami stared at her hand, exceptionally pale where it was draped over the darker flesh of Korra's arm. Her brows drew together, working through the facts and realizing a moment later that she had, in her semi-deliriousness after what was arguably the best orgasm of her life, kissed her own hand.
Another grunt, and she lowered herself to Korra's shoulder, very deliberately laying a kiss upon it. "There," she declared as she snuggled into her neck instead of laying over her arm. "That's you."
And when Korra chuckled at her, bringing her arm across her back, Asami pressed one more kiss just below her ear, humming contentedly.
