"Bolin, of the Fire Ferrets," Moira stage whispered, "Trust me, if you ever get the chance, take it," She smirked over her wine glass.
Asami and the other girls leaned forward, hoping for more details. Asami could feel her cheeks burning and her chest growing hot as Moira dragged her sensual gaze over the people dancing at the latest industry gala.
She peeked back over at the girls and winked conspiratorially, "You won't regret it," She sing-songed.
.oO0Oo
Moira's words had stayed with Asami for the last six months, even after Asami ran into Mako and began dating him.
The first time she met Bolin in person, she hadn't been able to say much at all. She spent the time instead drinking in the features and curves of the young man's body with a thirst that bordered on embarrassing.
So it wasn't very surprising that when the Arena had been shut down and Mako and Bolin moved into the Sato mansion she spent a lot of her time at the pool, oogling her boyfriend's brother.
He confused her in a way that could only be described as intriguing. She had a hard time reconciling the innocent naivety that he displayed around his brother with the cool, sexy, womanizer that she had heard all those stories about. The idea that someone who could be so open and caring could just flip a switch and become this other person who was rough, sensual, and commanding… Well, it was alluring.
She watched with a small smile as Bolin commanded her butler with the flick of a wrist, his arms crossing behind his head throwing his muscles into sharp relief. She bit down on her bottom lip, sucking the flesh into her mouth. Her eyes followed the trail of a water droplet as it fell from a damp strand of hair, trickling down his temple and down to his neck before resting in the hollow of his throat.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Tonight.
.oO0Oo.
Asami removed another pin from her hair, brushing the pin curl out before releasing another. She had excused herself from dinner, citing a headache and retiring to bed early.
Mako, ever the gentleman, had walked her to her room and kissed her on her forehead. She received the kiss quietly. She was still angry at his reaction to finding out that she hadn't asked her father's permission for the boys to stay at his home. Her boyfriend was wonderful…Wonderful, boring, and controlling. He reminded her of her father. All decorum and should be-s.
It was ironic that part of the reason she had started dating him at all was to dig at her father. As their relationship developed it was becoming more and more apparent just how alike the two men were.
She pulled the last curl down, brushing through the ends and sliding the waves behind her shoulder.
She crossed her legs and sat forward in her vanity chair. Her silk robe slid against the satin of her undergarments, hissing with the movement, as she reached for her favorite tube of rouge.
It was a deep red, almost the same stain as the blackberries she would pick when she was young. She pursed her lips, sliding the color over the soft skin and wiping the corners with her pinky.
She rubbed her lips together and uncapped her parfum, dabbing just the slightest scent of lily and musk at the insides of her elbows and behind her ear, near the pulse. She let her fingers rest there briefly and exhaled, trying to calm the racing drum of her heart.
Her eyes rose to meet those of her reflection, her body was thrumming with excitement and she could already feel warmth pooling between her legs at the thought of what she was about to do. Her breathing was heavy and her throat was dry.
She knew this feeling. It was the feeling she had anytime she sat behind a racecar, the rush she had after outmaneuvering an opponent on the track. The feeling of power an engine beneath her could give; Exhilarating and dangerous.
With one last glance at her clock, she stood. Everyone would be well on their way to dreamland by now.
She tiptoed on bare feet to her bedroom door, bracing a hand against the wood as she undid the lock. She opened it silently and peered into the hall.
Her father's room was only a few doors down to the right and Mako's room was just beyond, a ploy by her father to catch her sneaking into her boyfriend's room after dark. She smirked as she sidestepped the door frame with well-practiced movements; Silent as a shadow, as she darted towards the stairs to the left and away from the bedchambers.
Bolin had decided to claim the indoor pool and surrounding lounge chairs as his personal den, preferring to sleep there rather than share the upstairs bedroom with his older brother. The staff had been horrified, using his chosen sleeping arrangement as just another example how unsuitable these new friends were for the Sato heiress.
Asami crept past the kitchen and the staff quarters until she reached the marble tiles that led to the pool. The double doors opened with a soft snik that sent Asami's heart pounding. She shot a look over her shoulder before slipping inside.
The sound of water trickling from the fountain and the scent of chlorine sent her senses into overdrive. Moonlight was reflecting off the rippling water from the sunroof overhead, bathing everything in white. The marble gleamed around her, making the room appear to be the palace that Bolin had claimed it to be upon first entry.
In the corner was her quarry, his pale skin glowing in the light as he slept quietly on the chaise longue.
She padded over to him, no longer on tiptoe, no longer in a rush. Her own breath echoed in her ears as she approached him. He looked so different when he was asleep; the lighting creating shadows under his eyelashes making them seem longer above the apples of his cheeks. The angles of his face were more apparent, almost chiseled. His chest was bare, a hand resting on his abdomen and another at his side. Only his legs were covered, his pajama pants hanging low at his hips, revealing the 'V' that led to his sex. He looked to be just another stone statue slumbering in the Sato mansion.
Asami watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing; she gazed hungrily at his lips. Her fingers twitched at her side as she sat beside him on the cushioned lounge. Her silk robe gaped open as she leaned over him and she didn't bother to cover herself. Curious hands moved to smooth a stubborn black curl away from his face.
She brought her hands down to his shoulders, sliding over his neck and hovering over the skin there. She watched his face for movement as she danced her painted nails over his skin, drawing spiral patterns over the planes of his chest.
It didn't take long for him to awaken. He murmured quietly, his head rolling to the side. Asami grinned and lowered her face to the center of his chest, pressing her crimson lips there, marking her prey.
Bolin groaned in a voice thick with sleep as Asami tasted his skin, leading a wet trail down his abdomen. The fingers of one delicate hand lingered at his waist band while her other hand cupped the hardening flesh through the fabric just below.
He gasped, as if he was just arising from the pool. His hips rose to unconsciously meet the weight of her hand. She rewarded him with a squeeze and watched as his green eyes fluttered open to meet her own.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked, his eyes heavily lidded.
"Do you often dream of me?"
"No," he answered honestly, confusion creasing his brow.
She wasn't fazed, "You will," she replied huskily.
Nimble fingers slid under the band of his pants and Bolin raised his hips slightly, allowing Asami just enough room to slide them down until he was free, his hardness springing up to meet her hand.
His eyes fell shut again as Asami lowered her mouth to him, her dark curls falling like a blanket over his lap.
"Asami…"
Her name fell from his lips like a prayer and Asami could feel heat rush from her temples and course down her body until her whole body was trembling with desire.
Her tongue laved over the tip of him and she moaned at the taste, sending vibrations floating over his skin.
She rested her hands on his thighs and wrapped her lips around him, taking him into her mouth. His body stiffened under her hands and she knew that he was fully awake now.
"A-Asami?"
She could feel him trying to scramble away from her but she held fast, her eyes rising to meet his now wide ones. She stared at him, daring him to ask her to stop as she slid her mouth farther down his cock, one hand trailing down to hold it at the base as she moved her head back up.
"Mm?"
Bolin gulped, "What are…Oh spirits," his head fell back against the head rest, his eyes still on hers, "What are you doing?"
She smiled around him, her cheeks hollowing as she slid back down his length. She was mesmerizing, the burgundy 'O' of her lips such a sharp contrast to his skin. He grit his teeth and jolted upright as if stung, his hardness pulling out of her mouth with a loud 'pop'.
"What are you doing?" he asked again, his chest heaving.
She didn't answer in words but with movement and steely eyes. She stood, her fingers making quick work of the tie at her waist. She shrugged her shoulders out of her robe, letting it slither down her arms before falling to puddle on the floor.
Bolin's mouth went dry, his throat closing up until he was unable to speak. A dull click escaped his mouth as he tried to dampen his lips. He felt a very real fear that his brain had suffered a fatal circuitry error.
"Guh…" he managed weakly as Asami braced a hand on his chest, one long shining leg lifting over his hip so that she could straddle him.
She rolled her hips against his and he could feel her folds sliding along his hardness. Her dampness was seeping through her underwear, warm and inviting. He groaned, trying to hold onto that last shred of dignity. Integrity.
"Mako—," he started when his brain fed the word lazily into his consciousness.
"Is asleep," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She could see his resolve crumbling. His pupils were dilating, deepening the mossy color of his eyes to a crisp evergreen.
"This is wrong," he intoned, his own hands betraying him as they came up to grip her hips with bruising force, Holding her in a particularly sweet spot against his body.
Asami trailed a line of fire from his neck to his ear, biting at the lobe, her breath a tease against flesh that was growing too hot too quickly.
"Please, Bolin," she whispered, twirling her tongue over the shell of his ear, "I want you so badly. Can't you feel how wet I am?"
She punctuated her words by folding herself over him; bracing her hands on his chest and grinding down on him, allowing him to feel her more clearly.
It was as if a switch had been turned off in his mind. His hands delved into her hair, pulling her face down to his and tasting her mouth. She was sweet, all over, and richer than chocolate. Her mouth was hot and demanding and he was no timid lover. This was familiar territory and instincts were taking over.
Her body melted into the kiss and he unsnapped her brazier, letting her rise up just enough to dispose of it before pulling her back down. Her breasts were soft against his chest, her pink nipples hardening in the cool air.
A part of him was still certain that this was a dream, but that was the only part of him that was capable of thinking at all. Anything more than how good she felt and 'More' and 'Pants. Off.'
He kicked his pants off, until the only thing separating them was the strip of silk that she wore over her sex.
She was bucking against him, open mouthed kisses gasped against his lips and he couldn't take anymore. He snarled, shoving her underwear to the side and slammed himself inside of her, filling her immediately to the hilt.
"A-ah!" she panted, her voice breaking in exclamation.
He was so thick, big just like the rest of him, and she could swear that she could feel every muscle, every slight movement.
He wasn't gentle and he didn't wait to make sure that she was ready. He just took her, gripping her hips and slamming up into her as she tried her best to meet him thrust for thrust. This. This is what she had wanted. Fast and fierce, powerful.
"You're so tight," he gritted out, his hands wrapping around her thighs as he helped her move over him.
Sweat was slick between their bodies, adding extra lubrication to their movements as they became more frantic. More heated. She could feel it trickling down her spine and over the swell of her breast. Bolin must have noticed, too, because he sat up, taking her nipple into his mouth and making her cry out.
She could feel it building, her hips were bucking erratically and Bolin's movements were a heavy staccato against her hips.
One thick fingered hand rose to her face, his thumb rubbing the stain from her lips and pulling it messily down her jaw. The knowledge that he had had mussed her makeup, that her hair was a tangled mess from his fingers, only fueled her more. He didn't want her perfect, he just wanted her. It was primal. Undignified. Sin. He wasn't being cautious with her or treating her as if she would break; he was pushing her to her limits and then demanding more.
His thumb returned to her lips and pressed insistently until she opened to him, sucking the digit into her warm mouth. She swirled her tongue over the pad of his finger tip and released him, watching as his hand fell between them, his wet thumb finding the bundle of nerves above her folds.
She couldn't breathe, her head fell back on her shoulders as she rode him, her heart beating a frantic tattoo against her ribcage and then blinding white filled her vision, her whole body juddering around him as she screamed.
He caught her as she fell limply to his chest and held her tightly, hands gripping her ass as he used her body to bring himself to completion.
She could feel her core still vibrating around him, the aftershocks of her orgasm, and then he twisted his hips and reached the most amazing place, sending flames licking all over her body. Tingles that threatened her sanity and she realized with a shock that she was coming again. The earth was tilting and for one brief, desperate second, she wondered if they—if he- had caused an earthquake.
"BOLIN!"
He groaned as he came, his hips melding to hers in a way that only allowed him to go deeper as he released himself within her.
They held each other as their bodies cooled. Asami bit her lip with the first feelings of shame. She buried her head into his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat returning to normal. Regret fell heavily around them in tangible waves. The scent of their sex was a scarlet letter upon their skin, burning.
"This can't happen again," he murmured and the sound echoed through his chest.
"It won't," she whispered.
"…Mako can never know."
"He won't," she assured, a sickening feeling tightening in her gut as he gently pulled away from her and handed her, her robe from the floor.
'Brother Betrayer.'