A/N: This is another fic for the LJ comm capslock_zutara "Seven Days of Capstara" Week of Prompts. It's a little more mature, so rated M for Mucho sexytiems.
Against his bonds he trembled slightly, and did his best not to reveal it to her. After all, he couldn't let her know he was fearful in the least—she would exploit any fear she saw, and he'd never let her have that kind of advantage over him.
Stay strong, he thought. Don't panic.
The waterbender—Katara, he'd known for a long time what her name was—had him bound to a tree, arms and legs with rope, blindfolded, his wrists bent back behind him with ice cuffs for added safety against his bending. His mouth was still free, but without being able to see where she was it wouldn't fare well to breathe fire; he was in a forest and if he wasn't careful, he'd burn the entire area down with himself still in the thick of it.
Besides, the Avatar's friends weren't the enemy any longer…and he had thrown himself on their mercy.
And she reminded him of that fact, taunting him cruelly. "You asked for this," she sneered, "you begged us to take you in as a prisoner if we couldn't accept you as a friend. And since you did, I decided to repay a little favor you did a long time ago, to me." She circled him as she talked, and her voice was silky against his scarred ear. "You remember, don't you, Zuko?" He felt her hand reach out to take hold of his chin, firmly, and he gave a slight shiver. "Tying me to a tree, tempting me with my mother's necklace?"
He gulped before responding. "I'm sorry for that," he said lowly. "I already told you, I'm sorry for everything. I know I agreed to be your prisoner, but…" he felt himself pleading a bit, against his will, "…this isn't necessary..."
"Oh, but it is." The hand that had gripped his chin was moving, and he felt her fingers trail lightly from his chin down the length of his neck, and further down to where his chest was exposed by his open tunic. "I want you to see what it felt like to be so helpless, and not in control, and wanting something."
His breath was starting to come a bit erratically. She was touching him, and intimately—he was a prince, and no one touched him that way without his express permission; only Mai had been allowed during their make-out sessions—and she was so beautiful, as well, that he wanted to overlook the fact that this was absurdly inappropriate. "W-wanting something?" he asked, uncertainty making his voice tremor.
"Mmm." Her hand slid down the center of his open tunic, along the ridges of his ribcage and then down the flat plain of his stomach. He trembled helplessly this time under the touch, and thought he could hear her low chuckle in response. "Like you made me want my mother's necklace back." Her hand drifted upwards again, to both his relief and chagrin, and she teased the cords of his neck briefly. "I want to make you want something that badly."
And then he felt her pressing the entire length of her body flush against his, and he both felt and tasted her breath hovering over his mouth. His lips parted involuntarily at the feel of it, and she took advantage and leaned in to take a long, delicate lick of his upper lip before pulling away and out of his reach.
Zuko moaned, a slightly smothered noise that ended in a growl. He felt his face flush. "S-stop," he whispered, even as he licked his own lip afterwards and tried to lean forward against his bonds for more. "You don't know what you're doing…"
"Really?" she asked archly. "I think I do, actually. I've studied up on things like this, a bit." …Studied? "I've got some new tricks up my sleeve, Zuko." Nevermind that she was bare-sleeved when he last saw her in her blue Water Tribe robe. "I'm not that little girl you fought at the North Pole, anymore."
"I never called you little," he bit out before he could stop himself.
"Oh I know that. Your exact words were, well well, aren't you a big girl now?" she replied, lowering her voice dramatically and rasping it a bit to sound like him. "You tried to intimidate me and make me feel smaller at every turn. It was all just to prove your superiority over a little Water Tribe peasant like myself, wasn't it?" He could practically see her smirk behind his covered eyes. "Well, now it's payback time."
Zuko shuddered—whether it was from fear or anticipation wasn't really clear to him at that moment.
Then he felt her pressing up against him again, but this time she was backed up into him so that he could feel every subtle curve of her body against the front of his. Her hair was loose and soft and tickled his nose as he breathed, and the scent of it was like spring rain. He bit his lip in response and willed himself not to make a sound.
But it wasn't over. She raised her arms above her head, burying her hands in his hair and twining her fingers in it—before she arched her back, pressing her backside firmly into the front of his pelvis in three slow, deliberate rolls. The friction was too much, and despite his effort to remain stoic and silent he felt himself hardening through his pants, quickly and painfully. He groaned and tried to press back against her, but once again she'd shimmied out of his reach. His newly-sported erection throbbed and ached, now bereft, and his disbelieving mind whirled with the sudden loss of blood.
"Oh, no, look," she sang, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness, and he felt the humiliating flush return to his cheeks with a searing burn. "Look what I did, to you."
"Katara," he growled, his breathing labored, "stop this." This was a humiliation he wouldn't stand for—he wouldn't be made a toy for her amusement like this. He was royal blood, even if he had given up his title.
"I haven't even really started, yet," he heard her say, her voice as hard as ice; and before he knew what was happening he sensed her coming close again, felt her mouth descending on one of his bared and hardened nipples, her lips closing around it to tease with her tongue and bite gently. His breath hissed between his teeth.
She seemed to enjoy the sound he'd made, pinching the other nipple sharply with her fingers to elicit another one before letting her lips trail down to his rib cage, nipping the skin as she went. "When I get loose," he panted, his voice low with a snarled warning, "you're going to regret doing this to me. I won't let you off lightly—I won't be gentle with you—"
Katara interrupted her mouth's work to snap back, "You'll get free when I'm ready to let you free, Zuko, not before." She bit him sharply on his stomach to make her point, and he yelped, muscles spasming against her mouth. She was kneeling now before him—she had to be, for her mouth to travel in the direction it was going—and his suspicion was confirmed when she placed her hand on his swollen cock, closing her fingers around it through his pants and giving it a little tug.
He tried unsuccessfully to smother a shout as he flexed his hips, attempting to press himself further into her hand.
She hummed a bit at his reaction. "You liked that, didn't you. What, no stop this, or you're going to regret this, Katara?"
She stroked him again firmly through his pants a couple more times, sliding her hand all the way from his balls to the head, squeezing slightly as she went, and then back down again, and he let out the breath he was holding explosively enough to detect a faint trace of smoke in the air.
"Don't," he whispered, his breath ragged. "…Don't…"
Her hold on him didn't lessen. "Don't what?"
He panted and tried with every ounce of will left in him to put authority behind his voice. "…Don't start something you're not willing to finish, waterbender."
A delicate, chuckling laugh tinged with scorn was heard. "Oh, Zuko…don't worry, I plan on finishing you, all right…in more ways than one, maybe."
Then she was unfastening his pants and sliding them down his lean, pale hips, just enough to bare the evidence of his aching need to the cool air around them. He gasped helplessly as she did, bucking his pelvis slightly in an effort to gain some kind of friction, any kind of friction against that bare, swollen skin.
He heard her humming to herself again. "So needy." There was amusement behind her words again, and it excited him as much as infuriated him—if she was really going to do what he thought she was, Zuko thought he might lose his mind with the feel of it. He would be reduced to a quivering, needy puddle of Fire Prince if she so much as touched her lips there.
Those lips pressed against his lower stomach, kissing it with gentle movements and skimming over his bellybutton. Zuko jerked reflexively. She trailed her mouth lower, but off to the side of his erection, ignoring it completely; he felt her kiss the soft skin of his inner hip, teasing him with her tongue, and he writhed against his bindings.
"Katara," he hissed between his teeth, seething with irritation.
Instead of responding, she moved her teasing and maddening kisses to the other inside of his hip, again studiously avoiding his straining cock. She kissed and nipped at him, prompting more frustrated gasps and sighs.
He started to squirm. "Katara, please." It was a whisper now, less of a hiss.
"…Please what?" she whispered back, her voice calm and unruffled, and he could have sworn it had gotten softer.
He grit his teeth and forced the words out around it. "Please…your mouth…"
"What about my mouth?" More kissing of his silky inner hip, trailing even a bit lower toward his thigh. Wrong direction! his panicked mind supplied helpfully. A soft whine escaped him.
Suddenly he felt her breath, hot and damp, hovering over the head tantalizingly. "Do you want me to suck on it with my mouth, Zuko?" she asked, her gentle tone at odds with her suggestive words.
He shivered at her coarse language—where in Agni had she learned this stuff, anyway?—and nodded, quickly. His cock pulsed, demanding and eager, and he felt a bead of liquid gather at the tip.
"I want to hear you say it." She licked the moisture away with a single swipe of her hot tongue, and with a strangled moan, Zuko was undone.
"Please," he whispered harshly, "please suck me."
"…Say, 'please suck me, Katara, my brilliant, beautiful wife.'"
"—What?" he demanded, but she had already taken the head of him completely into her hot, wet mouth—and he bucked up into that warmth as his bindings allowed, not bothering to stifle the cries of relief and pleasure that came from him. She held him firmly at the base with her hand, squeezing and massaging, and took him inch by inch deeper into her throat.
A pounding was heard at the door. "Firelord Zuko! Firelord! Your Highness…I…I hate to disturb you, Sire, but…"
Katara didn't even pause in her efforts, leaving Zuko to attempt to control the tone of his voice as she sucked him off. "…Yes, wha-what is it?"
"My Lord, the naval fleet has assembled sooner than anticipated—" the ensign paused slightly as he heard another half-smothered groan through the heavy wooden door, "—and the captains of each ship are requesting your presence." He flinched as he heard gasping interspersed with muttered words, cursings and pleadings. "The, ah, cargo has been delivered onto each of the ships bound for the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe ports—" another loud groan, "—and it appears that we are on schedule to depart, but the captains insisted upon—" he heard the Firelady's name mentioned in a desperate plea, "—meeting with you before this momentous voyage." The ensign shifted on his feet uncomfortably as he heard the Firelord's voice continue to increase in both volume and frequency. "Shall I—shall I tell them you're detained, my Lord?"
"…Katara!" was the shouted, ecstatic response from inside the Firelord's cabin, and the ensign grimaced and flushed as red as his uniform in embarrassment.
Two more enlisted soldiers passed by the cabin. "They're at it again," one of them said disparagingly, shaking his head as his companion mirrored his disapproval. "I mean, don't get me wrong—it's great they're working on heirs to the throne already, but they really need to reinforce that door on this ship so it's soundproof."