A/n: Look, a wild update has appeared in the grass! But in all seriousness, this chapter is two months overdue. As for why, all I can say is writer's block, laziness, college, depression, and the general malady of just not having enough time or energy to sit down and edit this until now. Honestly, the only reason I managed to edit this at all before Thanksgiving break was because I ended up getting sick/half-ended up playing hooky today and finally had time to sit down and punch this out.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to all you guys reading this chapter right now because you guys are insane. I mean, I don't update for two months and I get 27 reviews for chapter 11 alone? You guys are awesome. I'm just wondering how you guys are going to react when you read that lemon later. That's right, lemon. It's not too graphic, but it makes that wait worthwhile now doesn't it? ;D

As for the other chapters, hopefully it doesn't take as long to update, but I really can't afford to miss any more days of class. Junior year of college is cray-cray.

Chapter Twelve: Private Lessons

There were very few times that Korra could remember being embarrassed in her life. In fact, they were so few that she could count them all on one hand.

For instance, when she was 8, she knocked her earthbending teacher into the reflection pond at the compound. There had also been the time she had been trying to hide from her academic tutor and got herself snagged on a nail and ended up suspended upside-down in the broom closet until Howl had to fish her out; or when she experienced her first period and cried to Master Katara because she thought she was dying; or even when she sneezed a fireball that singed off her eyebrows and a good portion of her bangs (which is how her parents initially found out their child was the Avatar).

However, all of that seemed to pale in comparison as she found herself stumbling onto a heavy petting session between Mako and Asami behind a storage shed.

Spinning on her heel fast enough to give herself whiplash, Korra quickly began retreating back down the winding pass she came. She had been on her way to the main temple when she had decided to cut through the brush-covered area near the dorms. She had been hoping to find a new shortcut, but it was clear how well that turned out.

'Well, that was certainly more than what I needed to know about Asami,' she thought to herself as she felt blood rush to her face as the image of Asami splayed out against the shed wall replayed in her head.

Mako too, but she hurried back towards her room before she could continue down that train of thought, the flames of her anger licking at her heels as she went.

After all, hidden in the bushes or not, they had been doing it in broad daylight where anyone could have seen them—she had seen them—and if she had seen them, there was a chance Ikki or Meelo could have too since they had a penchant for frequently wandering around the island. (Jinora, she wasn't worried about. The oldest air-child usually had her nose buried in a book—not to mention that Korra had a feeling the young girl knew more about the birds and the bees than she lead on anyway.)

But getting back to the point, it was utterly irresponsible for Mako to do what he did when he did. In fact, it made her see red—which was rather unfortunate because it started dredging up images she could have done without like the bright red blush on Mako's face and—

Mako's red scarf dangled forgotten over his shoulders as his face screwed tight, eyes half-lidded and dazed as Asami's lips parted, meeting Mako's fingers with wanton abandon and—

Abruptly, Korra slammed the door behind her. On the floor, Naga perked her head up in surprise, an inquisitive whine crooning from her lips. Korra, however, couldn't be bothered and threw herself into bed with a groan.

"It's not fair," she complained bitterly, her voice muffled by the mattress. It had been a few months since their argument, and while they were still not on any real speaking terms, they were getting better at being civil to each other. She even managed to hold a few threads of conversation with him over lunch to smooth over Bolin's unspoken concern at the table. Not only that, she had even managed the beginnings of getting over him.

However, it did nothing to temper her flare of jealousy today.

She curled around the odd feeling in her stomach, feeling it swirl thick and slow inside of her like the mucus trails of the giant moon-jelly snails back home. Though she had managed to convince herself to move on from Mako, it seemed fate had other plans because for the past few weeks, Mako had been reaching out to her. He had been kind to her and if she were honest, it felt…kind of nice; despite herself, she could feel herself slipping back into her old ways. The loneliness, after all, faded when they were together…

Which was probably why she was paying in spades now.

Still, she couldn't say she was that upset by today. She was jealous of course—a bit sad, maybe—but above all, she was…resigned. As friendly as Mako had been to her in trying to patch things up, his relationship with Asami was a constant barrier in her mind. Even if Korra did still have some lingering feelings for the firebender, she wasn't getting her hopes up. Regardless of whether or not Mako may have liked her back, he still had yet to fully choose between the two of them. She doubted he ever would, and that knowledge hurt.

Rolling onto her side, she huffed. "Stupid Mako."

Which she immediately regretted because her mind decided that that moment was the best time to drag up that memory of Mako and Asami against the storage shed today. She slammed the pillow over her head in a desperate move to block the tangent, but it was useless. There was no stopping the parade of images in her head as they began to drag up the couple's union in excruciating detail.

"No! No! No!" The last thing she needed right now was to see those two like that, especially since she was trying to get over one of them at the moment, so it really wasn't helping her to get all hot and bothered over him and his sex life.

Now, Korra wasn't stupid. Sheltered maybe, but not stupid. She had enough cursory knowledge about sex to know what they were doing behind those bushes and what that was doing to her insides, but she had told herself she wasn't getting her hopes up. It didn't matter to her that regardless of her thoughts on him, he was still a very attractive guy, or how their excitement was doing funny things to her stomach.

And excited they were.

Closing her eyes, the image slowly crept out towards her. Of the tightly-stretched back of Mako's jacket as his body tensed, of the choked gasps and grunts that made him jerk and made the air seem to crackle; of Asami's face as Mako worked his fingers in and out of her core, crying out in delight in such a way that it made Korra wonder if it really felt as good as it seemed.

Below the sheets, her thighs rubbed tightly together as her body shifted restlessly in bed and her hand hovered over the hem of her pants, just itching to dive in and put all her practice to work. After all, she may have been sheltered, but she wasn't stupid. Her cursory knowledge contained quite a bit of knowledge, and while she had never put anything inside of her, she knew just enough to relieve the ache between her legs.

But watching Asami react so spectacularly today made her wonder if just surface touches were enough. She knew the explosive properties of what the village women back home called "The Pearl," but was there something else that she was missing? She had never really thought about it before, but she recalled the giddy, hushed, reverent tones the women took when they talked about their warm nights in the tents. Usually, she would simply think about something else until they were done; there was no time to deal with "the talk" when she needed to learn how to achieve a better whip-form for her waterbending final.

But now that she had seen it for herself, the secret fire between man and woman, she found herself wondering about those whispered tones. Maybe there really was a reason why the village women always had that twinkle in their eye when they gossiped about their husbands; why Asami and Mako didn't seem to notice her at all.

Did it really feel that great, she wondered?

As if in response, the heat between her legs pulsed, but she coldly brushed it aside. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things, especially not when Mako had been the cause.

Snatching her hand up, she grabbed the pillow and stuffed it under her cheek as she yanked the covers over her with the other.

'I'm just being ridiculous,' she told herself. She was looking too much into this. Sex wasn't as great and mysterious as she was making it out to be. In fact, there was nothing special about it. It was forgettable even, just like the arousal she felt now. If she didn't do anything about it, it would go away on its own, right? Right.

And with that, Korra went to bed. The desire pooling and tugging insistently between her legs was getting easier to ignore now as she pushed it to the edges of her mind. If she tried hard enough, maybe it would fall away forever, and she could feel her grasp on the subject begin to slip away. Sleep would come for her soon, but the arousal in her gut flared once, apparently not giving up without a fight. However, it was easily shoved back into its forgotten corner, and she smiled faintly at the futility of her enemy's struggle.

After all, it couldn't last forever, right?

Three days later, Korra was finding out just how wrong she was.

'This is getting ridiculous.' She hadn't been able to eat or sleep properly in days. She was tired and cranky. To say she was distracted was an understatement. Every time she closed her eyes, images of hard muscle and heat lashed out at her, leaving her breathless and panting. The ache between her legs was a dull roar in her blood now, immovable and vocal as it whispered of the secret union of men and women in her ears. Ignoring it was out of the question, but so was treating it herself. This kind of fire demanded another.

Across the table, Korra watched as Mako and Asami sat in conversation with each other. In her seat, she glared daggers at the firebender's face. "You did this to me," they accused between the perplexed glances Mako gave in her direction.

"Hey Korra, you gonna eat that?"

Blinking slightly, Korra straightened in her seat before following Bolin's pointed finger.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. You can have it. I'm not that hungry anyway," she murmured, sliding the plate of dumplings towards him.

"Korra honey, are you feeling alright?" Pema asked, her brows knit with concern.

"Fine! Fine! It's probably just a cold. In fact, I think I'll just go to lie down a bit. Thanks for breakfast!" she said hurriedly as she slipped out the door. In the back of her head, she wondered if that was the smartest thing to do. Pema was a woman, after all. Surely she would understand Korra's predicament, but the last time the water-tribe native went to her for advice, things hadn't turned out so well.

Not to mention that this wasn't something people normally talked about. If anything, it would end up being a talk about the birds and the bees (which she already had from her parents before she left), and if it was anything like her parents' explanation, Pema would pass the baton to Tenzin to explain and the last thing Tenzin needed was to know that not only was his charge scared, she was sexually frustrated.

'That'll go over great.'

Still, she had to do something about this, but who could she turn to?

"And my offer for those private lessons still stand, little Uh-vatar. If you ever want to know how a real pro bends, use that address too."

And suddenly, a smile split across her lips. Maybe she would take him up on those lessons after all.

"I'm sorry; I don't think I heard you correctly. One more time?"

"I said 'I want you to have sex with me,'" she repeated patiently.

"That's what I thought," Tahno said, a bit of dread leaking into his voice. How they had gotten onto this subject was beyond him. He had been sitting down to the cup of tea he had made for himself when she called. After grabbing the door, he invited her in and went to his room to grab his tea. His mind was still reeling; how did they get onto sex when all he had said was a fucking hello? However, as he looked back, he probably should have realized something was wrong when she didn't move from the doorway.

Grabbing an old handkerchief from the dresser to wipe down the table he had spat on, he wrinkled his nose at the speckled marks on his throw-pillows. Those stains would probably never go away.

"You know I was half-kidding when I offered you those private lessons, right? Both times?" he asked casually, tearing his gaze form his stained pillows to glance over his shoulder.

"Which also means you were half-serious."

'Yeah, but I never expected you would actually take me up on it,' he scoffed. Irritated, he threw the handkerchief into his half-drunken tea. It was wasted anyway.

"And may I know why you are suddenly interested in my gracious offer, little girl?" he purred, crossing over to her with a curious cock of his brow.

"I'd prefer if you didn't. And I'm not little," she added shortly. Tahno raised a brow challengingly, telling her exactly what he thought of that little outburst before sweeping his gaze over her.

Her proud eyes were the first thing he noticed about her. Though Korra had never really been one to run from a challenge, the spark in her eyes was different. Where it had been one that started wildfires—brightly flashing, uncontrollable, destructive—this spark was tempered; an ember hidden beneath the ash, coiled with life and heat as it sung the cool ocean songs of the glaciers. Briefly, he wondered what had brought about this change—this evolution from a girl into a being with the secrets and confidence of a woman—and he searched her for the answer only to be met with resistance in the form of a deep expansive blue. It was like staring into the ocean through the hazy cover of sea ice, knowing life was down there only to be met with the ripple of shadows in the murky depths. Whatever secrets she had, she wouldn't be sharing them with him, which he was fine with. Everyone had their secrets after all.

Slowly, he drew his eyes down, savouring the subtle upturn of her nose, the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts beneath the cover of her clothing. He smiled appreciatively—Not so little indeed—but it wasn't like it was something he didn't already know. He had memorized the silhouette of her curves over the past few weeks after all; he knew her body like the back of his hand.

Not that he'd let her know.

"What's the matter? I thought you were dying for a go at me."

"No." Yes. More than she would ever know, but it was only yet another thing he couldn't—wouldn't tell her about. After all, how could he let her know that he'd been fantasizing about her for weeks?—that he dreamed about her without reprieve; of her hand gripped tightly around him, of her lips pressed against his in heat, the wanton arch of her neck, her shuddering sigh against his ear. He dreamed of her hair splayed over his pillow, her hands fisted in his sheets, the weight of her breasts on his chest, of the few tense moments between them as she slowly removed her bindings, of her voice at the peak of pleasure; of supple curves, slick heat, and heated eyes the color of blue fire.

He felt himself harden in his pants at the memories, the blood rushing in his head. Of course he wanted her, but his desire went beyond dying. It consumed him body and soul, plagued him night and day, wore him like a trophy when it had always been the other way around; death was the least of his worries.

But desperation—that kind of desperation—wasn't something he was ready to wear just yet, so he kept silent, suspended halfway between reality and dream as his blood seemed to rush everywhere but his head.

Maybe that was why he didn't notice as Korra's gaze fell for the first time since she came in.

"Oh…" The word fell from her lips as if her heart had just fallen from her chest. "But I—I just thought…Never mind, I guess this was a mistake then…"

Movement catching his eye, Tahno pulled himself from his reverie in time to watch her turn her back to him; panicked, he caught her wrist. "Wait!"

"What? You've already made it pretty clear how you feel about this," she grumbled before pausing, her eyes staring up to meet his with no trace of her previous confidence to be seen. He should have been surprised; she was looking up at him with the trust of a child, her confidence dangling on a tenuous thread as frail and fragile as an autumn leaf in the wind, but his mind was blank. All he saw were two shimmering pools of blue as bright as the summer sea.

"I know I'm probably not as pretty as some of the other girls you've been with, but would it really be that terrible to be with me?" Her eyes were imploring him, begging him to tell her that she was wrong, but nothing came to mind. He knew he should say something to correct her—tell her she was wrong—but what could he say? There weren't enough words in the world to describe how beautiful she was to him, and every attempt to conjure something up in his head was shot down and swallowed in the undertow because she filled his every sense. Nothing came to mind because every thought led back to her and he lost himself in her eyes, swallowed without a sound into their depths.

"I'm that awful, huh?" Despite her smile, he saw how painful it was for her to say that.

"That's not it at all!" he floundered uncharacteristically. "It's just…are you sure about this?"

He cast his wary eyes towards her and she saw all he couldn't bring himself to say: are you sure you want to sleep with a cheater? A prostitute?

Are you sure you want to sleep with me?

He watched her eyes open in surprise. It seemed she hadn't considered those things before, these minute summaries of who he was. His accusation was clear now; he thought she was settling for him—this washed-up gutter-whore—when she deserved so much better, but who was there? She and Mako were just now approaching speaking terms; Bolin would just misread her intentions and he would want something from her that she wouldn't be able to give, and other than Tahno, there was no one else she could think of that was her age. Did that mean she was just settling then? Did she really want to do this with Tahno? Was she sure about this?

"…I am," she replied at last, and the surprise in her voice mirrored the surprise on his face.

Stepping forward, she closed the gap between them and placing her hand over his heart, she added, "I trust you."

"I trust you." Those three words echoed in his head and a lashing insult lay poised on his tongue at her naïveté, ready to tear her limb from limb because she was fooling herself if he was a person she could trust as a small girlish smile played on her lips, but there was a gleam in her eye that was everything about knowing and anything but childish. It was hidden, mature—womanly—and he drank in the sight of the little—not so little—girl in front of him, the weight of his years hitting full-force. He felt like a dirty old man; and willing or not, he wondered if he should be doing this.

The decision was taken out of his hands when Korra shyly leaned up to place her lips against his.

Slowly, he melted into the kiss as instinct took over, his head angling against hers. The difference was startling; unlike that morning when he kissed her to shut her up, this kiss was darker, needier and he could taste the hunger thickly coating his tongue. Oddly enough, she tasted sweeter than he had imagined.

It was Tahno's turn to lead as he deepened this kiss. Below, his hands began to wander her body, one slipping under her shirt to palm her flesh as the other nestled between her shoulder blades, pressing her closer. She pulled away for air and he took the opportunity to plant himself at her neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there, addicted.

Intoxicating; that was the only way to describe it—the only word he could use in his now-pathetically small vocabulary because there would never be any words good enough to describe her. It was also the only way to explain what was happening to him. Why his mind was in a fog; why his hands were slow and hesitant when they had always been anything but; why he couldn't seem to stop himself from touching her. When he had been a Probending champion, there had been no shortage of women. They threw themselves at his feet, and the ones that were less forthcoming were eventually won over with his money or his fame. He had never wanted a women—never had to want one because they always gave themselves to him before the need to desire ever came—and yet he never wanted a woman as much as he did with her. He could be under her skin, and it would still never be close enough to her. He was addicted to her, pure and simple, and it was with reverent hands that he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and helped lift it over her head.

He followed the cloth as it went, his eyes raking over the plains of her body that it left in its wake. They crisscrossed over her skin, drinking in the taut muscles of her stomach, the tight curves of her sides and he didn't think it could get any better as the shirt passed over her head…

And then he saw the sharp contrast of her white bindings against the rich dark tones of her skin. His sharp intake of breath was audible.

If Korra had any doubts of his desire for her, they were gone now as Tahno stared at her transfixed, gaze burning as hot as the flames she threw. Reaching up, she pulled down the band tying her ponytail, watching the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed and her hair cascaded around her shoulders. His eyes continued to follow her as she stripped her armguards, dropping them in a pile over her discarded shirt and flushing as she felt his heated gaze crawled over the newly-bared skin. Appreciation dotted his widening pupil; emboldened, she bent her arm behind her and gently tugged the knot of her bindings, the cloth clinging briefly before bursting away from her, falling in a flurry of white rivers across the floor.

It was like watching snow fall, poetry in motion as the delicate band fluttered gently down. It pooled in ripples around her feet, the discarded remnants of a shell, and before the last bit of cloth had even finished falling, the Wolfbat was on her with all the predatory nature of his name as he licked, sucked, and kissed every inch of her exposed flesh. Toes curling on the floor, her back arched against him, a dulcet moan spilling from her lips followed by a needy whine because she didn't remember feeling that good when she touched herself there—and suddenly, she's learning new places on her body she didn't know existed—places that had never felt good before, but certainly were now—and spirits, do that again…

Clutching his head against her, she groaned deep in her throat as his finger flicked a particularly sensitive area of her breast, her arching hip meeting with his tight hiss. Suddenly, there were too many clothes on both of them. Time was forgotten; the only thing fueling them was the primal ache for skin on skin. In a blur of kisses and desperate groping hands, their clothes joined the pile on the floor and cupping the side of her face for another kiss, Tahno grazed the last bit of clothing Korra had on her as his thumb clacked against her hair ornaments.

Without breaking the kiss, he slowly lowered them onto the bed. She hadn't even really noticed the change in scenery, too distracted by the hand trailing up and down her side. In the back of her head, she wondered how he had managed to make her head spin with just a kiss. Practice, she supposed, and she wondered how many partners it would take to get so good before pushing the thought away. She didn't want to know.

When his mouth pulled away, she took a breath the first chance she had, feeling the air's cool kiss in her throat while a hot one was pressed to its outside, trailing lower. Unlike the previous kisses, the pace was languid now as he explored her body with his mouth at his leisure. Below her navel, she felt the insistent press of his fingertips against her center, only to be distracted by his mouth on her nipple and the occasional pass of his thumb over her pearl. On her breast, the pressure of the suction mirrored the pressure of his fingers against his entrance, and he only moved up long enough to swallow her whimper as he finally wriggled a finger inside.

Hands gripping his biceps, Korra let out a shuddering breath at the intrusion. She could feel her body's reaction to the intrusion—felt the experimental ripple of her muscles around it, felt its mutual press inside her body. Discomfort began to burn at the edges of her mind as she stretched to accommodate him, pain fizzling at her nerves as her senses were jarred to new heights. With painful acuity, she could feel the wetness leaking from her core; the girth of his finger slammed her. His hand was a lot bigger than hers, filled her more thickly than hers probably ever could have, and his name was a choked gasp on her lips as his thumb rubbed insistently over her bundle of nerves and he slipped another finger alongside.

Spirits, that felt good.

The feeling was foreign, but not unwelcome. Adjusting to the new sensation, she flexed experimentally around him cooing softly as he began to move his fingers in and out of her. His thumb continued to work over her; his mouth returned to her body in firm, meandering paths. She tried to follow the patterns in her head, but couldn't make any sense of it when her mind was constantly finding other things to focus on. The only thing she knew for certain was that Tahno, despite his maddening wanderings, was steadily moving down her body.

And then he settled between her thighs and Korra suddenly didn't know anything. Her mind flashed into an endless horizon of white; even if her life depended on it, she wouldn't have been able to remember her own name. All she could focus on was the fact that she had never felt anything like this before and she would let him mouth off as much as he wanted if he put his mouth to good use like this later.

At a particularly deep thrust of his tongue, her hands flew to his hair. There was a familiar tensing in her gut; she was close, and she buried her hands into the silky locks, relishing their texture against her skin. She never realized it before, but Tahno had fabulous feeling hair, but the thought was cut short when she felt his tongue move higher to curl around her bundle of nerves and a surprised cry flew from her lips as her orgasm suddenly slammed into her, her vision turning as white as the tundra snow.

Breathing ragged, she slowly came down from her high. Under her belly button, a hiss erupted from below and she only dimly registered his glare of annoyance over her downy patch of curls, biting back a moan as he pulled away with a final fleeting lick.

Slowly, he moved over her, arms braced on either side of her head as he settled between her legs. Reaching up, he tucked a stray hair from her face, the tender motion sending butterflies skittering through her stomach like a plague as he hovered above her. The dim lighting of the apartment cast his muscles in hard shadow. If he still had muscle tone, he would have been as chiseled as the statues she saw at the museum, but the months away from the brutal training regime of the probending world were starting to show. Underneath his lean muscle came the faint indents of rib bones; he was wasting away in this room, but this fact was hard to focus on when the traces of his last meal gleamed so prominently on his chin and his arms held her like a cage.

She was coming down from her high now, the blurred shapes sharpening under her growing focus as the fire cooled inside her, kept alive only by the languid strokes of Tahno's hand on the outer length of her thigh. His fingers felt cool on her skin; only the tips burned where they held contact with her as he took in her disheveled state with a burning gaze that seemed more at home on a firebender than him and a smug, crooked grin that only just made it to his eyes.

Watching as he dipped his head, she felt the reverent press of a kiss to her neck, a small offering to a temple of worship—one of many, she knew—and she shifted restlessly in the sheets as the flame began to grow once more in her body. Pleasure was warming her veins once more, calling to her with a voice as silky as the thin veneer of an ebbing wave and as strong as a riptide. It should have pulled her under, she knew. Everything he was doing felt wonderful, but the pleasure was being kept at bay by the doubt following on its heels.

Because it didn't seem right. Mako and Asami had been lost in their own little world, and while she and Tahno were closer physically, it felt as if the man above her were oceans away. She didn't doubt that Tahno felt some enjoyment from what he was doing, but just how much of it was real? He worked in the sex-trade now; it was his job to make her feel good, but she didn't want this if it was going to be a chore—a task—just another job to him. She wanted to mean more to him somehow, but if she did, she certainly had a funny way of showing it.

Her eyes traced patterns in the white ceiling as she felt his fingers probe her intimately one last time, blinking against the wet sound as he sucked his fingers clean. Idly, she wondered how many of his customers had done the same thing that she was about to do—if he had ever taken them to his home. Had they slept where she did now?

She shut her eyes and quickly shoved the thoughts aside. It was another thing she didn't want to know.

As if reading her thoughts, he spoke. "I never brought them here. You're the first one," he admitted tremulously, pressing a hand to her cheek, and she was surprised to find herself crying.

The relief that washed over her was enough to erase it away though and she placed her hand outside his, feeling the warmth spread through her palm as she leaned into the touch. As he pulled his hand away, she matched his gaze and met him halfway for a kiss, his feelings of anxiety and shame melting between their lips like fresh snowmelt, tasting as clean as the rain.

Heat slowly worked its way back to them. The sheets were too stifling, were thrown back forgotten as their tongues tangled together, damp and hot as the air before a summer storm. Electric was the only way she could think of describing it; she couldn't get enough of him and sweat poured from her like she was baking in her skin. Now she didn't know how she could ever think of his feelings for her as lukewarm; it was so hot, it was dizzying and she had to constantly remind herself to breathe.

Slowly, she felt him settle over her, felt the first intimate press of him into her body. Panic suddenly froze her system and she pushed against his shoulders as she pulled away from the kiss. "Wait…"

Perplexed, he looked up at her, their eyes locking over their mingled breaths, a clashing of ocean blue and snow-white.

"It's my first time…" she told him hesitantly, a vague explanation for why she stopped. It wasn't what she wanted to say at all, but it was the closest thing she could get right now because she was so anxious and excited and nervous and confused…and she just hoped that somehow, somehow he would be able to understand what she didn't and couldn't say.

Above her, Tahno swallowed thickly and she watched the fine muscles of his throat work around his Adam's apple; his spine tensed. It was the most nervous she'd ever seen him, she realized.

Hands anxiously gripping the sheets, he found his voice at last. "I'll be gentle," he reassured.

And he was, entering her with such care that she felt every jerk of his hips and choked groan he gave. She felt his steady press into her, the stretching burning like a hazy memory at the edges of her mind as he entered her inch by agonizing inch. Pleasure burst like stars before her eyes; he was so deep inside of her, she felt him in her throat as her back arched and her toes curled with every thrust he gave. She didn't know what to think; it was too much and never enough at the same time, and it was all she could do to just cling on and whisper his name as they moved together as one, rising and falling like the ocean tides, bodies surging and flowing to the rhythm of the waves.

Their peak came up faster than either had anticipated, sneaking up and surprising them so swiftly that they suddenly couldn't breathe as they found themselves tumbling through the stars.

Chests heaving and throats aching, they fell into themselves, collecting the lost bits of consciousness from the abyss. The feeling in their feet was the first to return, effectively useless but a comfort all the same. Breathless and boneless, Tahno carefully rolled off of her as Korra stared at the ceiling in wonderment next to him. Even in the greying light of the room, he could make out her gaze still dark with the aftermath of lust. The stars were still swimming in her eyes, he realized. Not that he could blame her; his own spine was a pool of sweet fruit jelly, even as his blood sang and his heart thrummed with the last echoes of their lovemaking. It wasn't anything like the song of the waves he felt when he could still bend, but it came damn close.

"Wow…just wow…"

Tahno couldn't help the smirk on his face as he glanced down at her. "Better than you expected, right?"

"Much better. I can see what the big deal is now," she laughed gently, turning to meet him with a smile.

Tahno smirked to himself. "Don't get too comfortable. This is just the tip of the iceberg," he told her, but even then, he could see the sleep filling her eyes and weighing her lids. Of course, he wasn't faring much better, and struggled to keep his eyes open.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she murmured quietly against his chest, stifling a yawn as she felt her head become heavy. The thumb casually stroking her arm wasn't helping either, and he watched her fall asleep on his chest as a small smile played on his lips, fingers tangling in her tresses as he kept her hair from her face before slipping into dreaming with her.

He could only enjoy his rest for a little while though. As he was soon to find out, Korra was an insatiable lover.