... compare to the high pitched keening sound she's making.
"Fuck, that's good," he grunts as he picks up his pace.
He feels her roll her hips in response. She's so tight and naive he thinks. He loves it when she smiles at him, making sure to meet his thrusts in time. "And to think," she breathes, "you didn't give me the time of day when we first met."
"I thought you were one of my brother's fangirls." His voice is gruff. He feels her clench around his length and knows he's so close to release.
"To think," she pants, "that Tenzin didn't want me to even see a pro-bending mat-ch." Her voice goes up in volume at the end of the word and he knows he's hit her sweet spot. He's not had many girls (most flock to his charming brother) but he's had enough to know that she's close and he's hit the spot that makes her lose all reason.
"Harder," she complains as her hips try to force his into a faster pace.
"Patience," he mutters. Love, he almost adds. He can't love her. She's just an annoying, stubborn, amazing girl who has parents and the world watching her. If he were honest with himself he would acknowledge there are quite a few people watching him during matches as well. He would never admit to clipping newspapers though. That's just tacky.
"Now," she whines and he knows he needs to listen to her now because the pottery in the room is shaking and the candle flame i...