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The Chamberlain is using his lecture voice, somehow both monotonous and pitchy at the same time. Fire Lord Zuko sighs quietly, his broad shoulders barely moving with effort. “More tea, sire?” I ask quietly. His hair is a current of black water, gently sliding across his back as he turns to glance at me over his shoulder. Upon seeing me, and my very obviously torn -very obviously SHORT- dress, his eyes turn to molten topaz, intent and aflame.
“Leave us.” His voice is a growl, rumbling from deep in his chest. I start to stand but his pupils turn into slits as he stares at me, nearly biting out the words, “Not. You.” The few guards and attendants on the high dais make themselves scarce as quickly and quietly as possible. My small seat behind him is completely obscured from the view below the high dais. The Chamberlain is still droning; the room is still silent with the exception of shuffling and scribbling from council members and scribes. But Zuko’s entire demeanor has altered and a small voice in the back of my head warns me that I might be in danger. As he faces forward, I notice an ominous smirk growing in the corner of his mouth. Definitely in danger. He leans his seat back a little and I scoot over to the side to give him some room. He’s silent, stretching his arms out as far as he can, and I’d be blind not to notice the muscle rippling beneath his robes. I jolt up from my open admiration of his body, remembering my duties, and get to work brewing more tea. I feel warmth on my calf and turn to find his right arm stretched back, his long fingers slowly kneading up my leg. The way he’s squeezing borders between delicious and painful. My eyes are transfixed as his fingers move higher and higher at a delirious pace.
“That can’t be comfortable.” I murmur before I can stop myself.
“It’s not. Scoot forward.” He says it casually, as if ordering more tea.
“My-My Lord?” I blurt out. I can’t focus with his hand on me. What the hell is he thinking? He looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes resembling that of a dragon rather than a man,
“Scoot. Forward.” An order, dripping with tension that has me squeezing my thighs together. My mouth runs dry,
“I-The council members-it’s..” I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts, “No. I can’t.” His fingers have reached my knee and grip it tightly at my words. He looks at his table, flipping over a scroll casually,
“There are two ways this can go. Either you scoot forward, or I come back there and fuck you raw for provoking me in that scrap of fabric you call a dress.” His voice is so low and menacing by the end, it makes me breathless. Part of me wants to beg him to do whatever he wants. But I can’t let him know that. So instead, I narrow my eyes,
“You wouldn’t. The entire council-” His head snaps back, glaring at me full on,
“I’ll spread you across this table so they can watch, I don’t give a shit. One way or another I’m getting in between those legs or I won’t be able to focus though this meeting.” Below the high dais, Chamberlain clears his throat, annoyed the Fire Lord has looked away. Zuko doesn’t move, his eyes trained on me like a predator about to strike. A thrill jolts through my stomach. Maintaining eye contact, slowly, I scoot my chair forward just a little. He actually growls, the sound both terrifying and alluring, and grabs my knee, yanking my hips forward so hard I’m in a deep slouch against my seat. We are going to get caught! What is he thinking?
“Apologies Chamberlain. Continue.” Zuko says, his voice breezy and formal, a complete opposite from the commanding tone he just used on me. His long, slender fingers coax their way up my leg, slipping under the torn fabric of my dress. The higher up he gets, the warmer his fingers grow, sending pulses of heat up my thighs to my clit. Oh Gods the heat..it’s so warm, the way he’s moving-
“No don’t-” I attempt to keep my thighs closed and he chuckles darkly- before wrenching them open with ease. He leans forward, propping his chin up on his table. To everyone below the high dais he seems completely at attention. No one would know he’s turning me into a wet puddle- literally and figuratively. Wetness drips down my thighs, soaking the seat beneath me, pooling on the floor below my seat. Zuko’s callouses scrape through my mess. I gasp and it echoes lightly, forcing me to clap a shaking hand over my mouth. A low chuckle escapes him and he grips my thigh tighter,
“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to…..” He doesn’t have to say it. I already know. And Gods do I feel the same. He moves his hand up higher to my center and hisses, leaning back against his seat. His other hand is gripping the arm rest so hard I can hear the wood creaking. “You’re not even wearing any underwear. You’re fucking killing me.” His voice almost sounds like a threat. Without warning he spears two fingers inside me, foregoing any foreplay with my clit and instead going straight for the kill. Immediately my back arches and I whimper a little. The quiet snarl that comes out of Zuko’s chest slithers up my spine. “Make another sound like that and I’m bending you over this throne.” Panting, I take a nearby tea cloth and shove it into my mouth. Below us, Chamberlain and a council member begin arguing, their voices bouncing off the chamber walls. Zuko’s fingers are rough and they move faster, slipping in and out of me, stopping to gather up my juices off my thigh before ramming back in. The heat from his bending and the rough speed of his pace has me gasping for air, digging my nails his forearm, torn between begging him for mercy and begging for more. A moan escapes me and Zuko jerks in his seat a little, almost turning around. Is he going to come back here? Please come back here. He rights himself but slides a third finger into me and I lose all control, screaming into the tea cloth, bending to shove my face into the armrest of my chair, my body convulsing. If anything, that seems to ignite his fire further and he pumps his fingers into me faster, curling them so they hit the base of my clit from inside of me. Tingles spread from my scalp to my curling toes and my entire body grows taut. My channel pulses and tightens, squeezing around his fingers until he can barely move them- and then he does the unthinkable. With his fingers still pumping inside me, he slides his pinkie up to my clit and gives it the smallest zap of lightning. The tea kettle next to me explodes, from his bending or mine I don’t know. Pure ecstasy has me bowing off my seat, the sound I release is a mixture between a moan and a sob but they form a word that is impossible not to understand, even with the teacloth,
“Zuko!” Panting I slump back against the seat as he pulls his fingers out of me. Do not climb onto the throne and fuck this man silly. Do not climb up there and fuck the Fire Lord for the entire kingdom to see. You are a lady. Your mother would kill you. You have morals. You have dignity. You have no feeling in your legs. It’s my mantra as I sit up slowly, adjusting my dress. My entire body shakes and there are black dots swimming across my vision as I try to sit up straight and ignore the now massive puddle on my seat and the floor below it. I glance down at the base of the throne- oh Gods it got on the throne. I barely even comprehend that Zuko is talking calmly and firmly, saying something to the councilors below. Not a hair out of place, and the tension that was in his broad shoulders seems to have dissipated. He reaches out to a tray on his table and pretends to pick up a firecracker bun. His fingers glisten and I watch as he lifts them to his perfect lips…..and licks me off of them. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper yell. He makes a show out of it, individually sucking one at a time and even getting the webs of his fingers to ensure there’s not a trace. Do not fuck this man in front of the entire council. Wait until their all gone. At least retain some form of control woman. When he’s finished with his little show he adjusts his sleeve, probably soaked from me as well, and says,
“Now that we’ve gotten that matter settled, you may bring the next item on the agenda.” I don’t miss that his next breath isn’t one of boredom but of sheer pride and contentment.