..., is unknown to her, but not entirely unpleasant.
Mako trembles slightly above her, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Slowly, he opens his eyes, worry etched in his features.
"Did I hurt you?" he asks, caressing her face. She leans into his touch.
"It'll pass," she says. And it does – a few seconds later and everything feels decidedly less unpleasant to her. She's no expert at these kind of things, but she's sure the effort Mako's making to hold still has to be immense.
"You can move now," she says, and he does, slowly at first, pace quickening as he thrusts in and out of her. She whimpers, clutching onto his shoulders, the sensations coursing through her body, setting her on fire. It doesn't hurt anymore; the pleasure is overriding the pain.
"I'm.. almost there," Mako grinds out, pace growing frantic.
She jerks her hips up to meet his every thrust, and suddenly she's crying out as lights explode behind her eyes and she's thrown over the edge into bliss. Vaguely, she notes Mako's gasping and trembling against her, then he collapses onto her, burying his face into the crook between her neck and shoulder.
He rolls them over onto their sides, wrapping an arm around her, stroking her hair with his other hand and pulling the covers over them. Korra can't help but think that she's probably a mess right now, all sweaty and sticky and disgusting – but content, nevertheless.