A/N: I wasn't going to do another, but so many people wanted me to. So here you go. It's crap, but here it is ^_^ Stay away, little kiddies.

"The problem," she whispers, legs on either side of his bare chest, "is that you still think you've got this under control."

Mako's breath is ragged, eyes flicking between her wide eyes and the skewed top of her shirt.

"And we both know you don't," she says smugly, hands pinning his to the floor.

They'd been sparring, and somehow she had ended up on him, still locked in this battle of wills, in this silent challenge for the other to act first. One of her hands releases his, circling his shoulders, pointer finger trailing down his chest.

He shivers, hands curling into fists. Her nail grazes his skin, and she grins as he struggles to control himself.

"What's wrong," she coos, voice sugary sweet, dripping with sensuality, and Mako's eyes narrow. Korra pushes herself up and off of his, brushing off her training shorts.

As soon as he stands, she pushes him against the wall, hands on either side of him, close enough that she can smell his familiar scent of wood fires, now overlaid with the strain of effort. His large hands settle on her hips, swaying back and forth in a tempo moving to music they can't quite grasp.

"Nothing's wrong," he murmurs back. She's set in determination, though, and she presses closer.

"Isn't it?"

"Of course not," he whispers with false confidence, and she knows he's cracking. He's passionate, but he's not as comfortable as she is. She'll win this one.

"C'mon, Mako. We both know that even a big, strong man like you has to break." She drags out the last word, catching her lip between her teeth, eyes downcast, as if shy, but the electricity in her tone leaves nothing to assumptions. She glances up, innocence dangerous.

"Not true," he replies, chin tipping up, and she jumps up on him in a move that surprises him as he staggers back, back hitting the wall. Her legs wrap around his waist, and her hands tangle in his hair roughly.

"You all have to break."

Her hips press to his, and his breath hitches as his hands grab her thighs, hoisting her further up on him. She begins to rock against him, daring him silently.

Her head bows into his neck, and she whispers softly, "you're going to break."

Korra's breath tickles his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck, and for the first time since she had begun, his hips surged against hers too.

His hands pushed her insistently against him, mouth capturing hers. He wasted no time in pleasantries, tongue dipping aggressively into her mouth.

It's a battle of wills, for control, between two passionate people, but Korra knows she will prevail. He likes control, but she has it, and he's a hundred percent whipped.