A/N: Feedback of any kind is welcomed and appreciated! Enjoy!
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Perspiration beaded just above his brow. Pale blue had been dazed, glazed over in sin as he watched her and her breasts bounce upon him and heard the resounding slap of their meeting thrusts.
She made a heavenly sight. That was unquestionable. Naked and flushed. Moaning out her demands and desires without a care in the world as he tightened the friction between them.
He almost regretted that they were forced to conceal their relations.
After the handful of weeks they hid these rendezvous of sorts behind closed doors, he reveled in the sensation of coming home to someone and releasing the shared pent up frustration on one another. From the scratches and bruises they'd leave on each other's skin, to the raw vulnerability, raw desire burning in their irises and dilated pupils, the sensation was unmatched to the mundane routine of his profession.
It certainly didn't help their cause when both hiding and blatantly displaying their greed produced a swell of arousal at the most inopportune times. Mainly during Council meetings, or when he consulted Tenzin about one thing or another, yet the temptation to pull her into his office about 'upcoming Task Force raids' overwhelmed him.
He didn't, of course - the bald man would in all likelihood attempt to question him on said raids - but the urge was there. If not to tease her and see that adorable pout, then certainly to taunt Tenzin into a bemused and sputtering mess.
Tarrlok groaned. His hands grasped at the curve of her hips and guided her motions, though his eyes lingered in a trance at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, the feeling of being so enveloped by her, relishing that intoxicating liquid heat.
Spirits, she was exquisite.
With a grunt, Tarrlok tightened his grip on her hips and roved his gaze up her toned stomach and to the enticing view of her breasts. Full, supple breasts vigorously jolting to the force of his thrusts that the desire to suckle upon a dark nipple overwhelmed his seared nerves.
Tarrlok leaned forward, capturing a hardened bud between his lips and applying pressure, before she tilted her head back with a low moan. He should've been used to hearing such sounds from her, given the amount of times they've engaged in this act, let alone the numerous occasions he'd done this with past flames, yet it still caused a surge of pride as well as his heart to pound accordingly.
He couldn't help but think back to memories in his past. While he's experienced a handful of lovers, Korra was quite different. Different in a way that he was left mystified at how well their bodies matched one another.
Tarrlok marveled at the way she played the part of a submissive lover, as well as a rough and domineering one at the same time. Most, if not all, of his past relationships, Tarrlok was forced to decide between either one. While he relished laying back and gaping at his lover, he also reveled in power and control. It was fitting with his choice in career, let alone his upbringing that he took part in both.
Regardless, the longer they continued these trysts, the more he felt himself growing attached to her. Unhealthily so. She was completely divergent to the partners he had in the past - personality and age, as well as title and position in power - yet he couldn't deny he was utterly transfixed by her. By her smile, her glimmering eyes, her boisterous laugh. Spirits, even the way she yanked the tangles out of her hair as she dressed herself for the day, or the way she unconsciously nuzzled his chest for warmth during the times she remained by his side for the night.
He relished the tender moments just as much as the alluring ones. Yet as he considered her beside his previous flames, there was a notable contrast as to how they regarded him. Often, she'd prod and mock him just as much as he did with her. Truthfully, it felt similar to a game, however, it was an intriguing one compared to his past in blindly leading his partner and hoping for the best.
This, as much as it began with nothing more than her curiosity in seduction, felt right. With what little patience she held for him in their normal lives, she made up for in spades in endearment and audacity. He just wished it was under different circumstances, that they were allowed to do as they saw fit without the unspoken threat hanging over his head.
Abruptly, Korra shifted her pumping movements to mesmerizing gyrations upon his cock that caused Tarrlok's musings to cut short. He squeezed his eyes shut, though the uncharacteristically breathy, girly giggle that escaped her caused him to release the nipple in his mouth with a wet pop and allow his head to tip back against the pillows.
She repeated the circular motions, over and over again until an elated smile quirked the corners of her lips up.
It was evident in the way she took this vague role in strides that she relished holding his pleasure over his head. There was an unspoken need to prove himself a capable lover, or perhaps merely to cause that pretty face of hers to contort in utter ecstasy with nothing but him on her mind.
In and outside of silk sheets, she ridiculed him. It was nothing more than a ploy to provoke him, he knew that much, but it still produced an enticing shiver regardless.
Pale blue bore into her dazed cerulean as Korra hastened her pace at a nearly uncontrollable rhythm. The pitch in her cries rose with each impassioned thrust, however, even in his stupefied state of near frantic lust, he managed to concentrate on the hasty beat of her heart. It was already hammering against her chest, heady and elated. Yet with previous encounters - a few he guiltily accomplished on himself - cutting the slightest bit of oxygen off and rushing the rate of blood flow caused a peak to heighten all the more fervently.
Tarrlok clenched his jaw and hastened the blood rushing, pumping to the beat of their thrusts until it outmatched them.
Through hazy eyes, the look on her face was mesmerizing.
Her brows furrowed, her head lolled back and her mouth parted, even just a fraction as moans spilled deliciously from her kiss-swollen lips. As much as she dominated him, straddling his hips and digging her short fingernails into his chest that'd undoubtedly leave little crescent moons, she stopped moving her hips to meet his thrusts and instead, allowed him to do as he pleased.
He chased their pleasure breathlessly. His nerves prickled with continuous heat that his attention waned, even a mere sliver. His invisible grasp on her heart slipped and abruptly caused her heartrate to spike.
One second she'd been riding him with joyous abandon, yet just as quickly, she was off of him as if she were burned, clutching her chest, gasping for air and appearing as frightened as he loathed to imagine.
"What the hell?!" She gasped, shakily standing at the foot of his bed with eyes widened. It seemed as though her thoughts were just as muddled as his due to the fact that tense silence lapsed over them as she stared at him incredulously. Tarrlok propped himself up by his elbows, attempting to catch his breath and unconsciously noting her beating heart that was only now beginning to slow down from that forced high. "Did you just bloodbend me?" She asked.
Audibly swallowing over his dry throat, Tarrlok licked his lips and released a trembling breath. "I… I didn't expect to get caught during sex, but I suppose there's a first time for everything." He managed to respond, still in the process of comprehending what in Koh's name had transpired.
Well, him getting caught bloodbending her was what happened.
Cerulean softened a fraction. "Yeah, you're definitely caught…" She said slowly, her gaze roving over his form in thought, a combination of quelled mirth exceeded the irritation, if even by a fragment.
It was only then that he realized how flushed and flustered they were. That his cock, as swollen as he'd been, rested wetly against his lower abdomen and throbbed to the thrusts he imagined they would've continued in partaking if it weren't for the fact that he was so entranced by her body that matched his own perfectly.
Tarrlok observed her. While she stood at the foot of his bed, cool air grazing his overheated skin at the lost contact, he couldn't deny the panic that peaked intensely in her blood began to subside into a quiet hum the longer her cerulean orbs traveled the length of his splayed body.
"Are you going to take me in? Arrest me? Bloodbending is a capital offense and you have me at your mercy… naked I might add. I assure you, Lin wouldn't appreciate the image." He goaded, preening.
Her brow twitched in response, whether from annoyance or amusement, he wasn't sure, and he couldn't bring himself to care. Her body language, as much as her muscles were tense, the mild intrigue outweighed her resentment that was there moments prior. She cocked her head to the side in thought, her eyes roving over his restless form simply due to the fact that they were prolonging their inevitable union once more.
A part of him was ill at ease that he was discovered. Perhaps she truly was contemplating whether or not to take him into the police station. However, that didn't seem just. As much as her face was indecipherable, the rest of her body told him she was little more than fascinated by his dark skill.
He supposed that was only natural.
She was an inquisitive woman, he didn't expect that'd change in this regard. He expected the pain and betrayal and fear burning in her body, yet that slowly dissipated the longer she stood with a cocked hip at the foot of his bed. Although, judging by the way her calculated leers lingered at his still stiff loins and his face that more than likely showed just how aroused he was, Tarrlok assumed her intrigue stemmed from something sinful, rather than trepidation.
Was she getting aroused by this? By the idea that he could induce such sensations on her?
Just as the thought formed, cruel orbs brightened at something unknown, before she sauntered towards the duffle bag she brought along with her. She emphasized the sway of her hips, more than likely to torture him with the enticing sight, while a knowing smirk lined her kiss-swollen lips. Pale blue followed the movement of her hips and discreetly wished he felt the sway against his own.
Interest piqued, he watched her silently.
Korra reached for something in the bag, rifling the slightest bit through its contents, before swiveling on the balls of her feet. His brows rose at the items.
In her grasp, she dangled and temptingly wiggled a coil of rope and a gag with an endearing pink ball at its middle. His eyes flickered from the items undoubtedly meant to be used on him to the young woman holding them. The smirk morphed into an outright grin, though something about the way she regarded him was stern.
"How about I punish you for doing something so stupid to me in the first place?" She said, leisurely making her way back to his increasingly tense form. He was tense in a way that had elation rushing in his blood - feeling himself swell all the more stiffly with each step she made towards the bed - rather than apprehension.
It was due to that look on her face. The heavy lidded gaze through sooty lashes, sultry yet uncompromising. Promising of relentless peaked pleasure at her whim rather than his own.
Tarrlok clenched his jaw as Korra unceremoniously tossed the items on the bed beside him and crawled atop his body.
She straddled his hips, bracing herself on her forearms on either side of his head and captured his lips in a fiery kiss. His tongue danced along with her own in a rhythm so familiar and wavering and heatedly sweet, until she captured his lower lip between her teeth and pulled away mockingly. Deft hands placed themselves on her hips in an attempt to continue where they left off, the heat emanating off of her and onto his groin was too tempting, though with the gentle graze, Korra easily, mercilessly, grasped his hands and pinned them into the pillows above his head.
Tarrlok cracked open his eyes at that, and soon enough, the following tug of his wrists were being bound together by the rope.
Eager thrills coursed up his spine. She was utterly determined, calloused. Spirits, even tenacious in the way her cerulean glimmered cruelly in the moonlight. It was only when she knotted the rope and smirked that he tested its strength. Of course, it was chafing against his skin, and more than likely when they were done, he'd catch sight of red blotches of irritation.
"Ko-" He began.
"No talking." She uttered brusquely, sitting squarely on his throbbing cock that even the barest grazes was enough to get a shaky sigh to escape him.
Smiling, Tarrlok scoffed as Korra blindly reached for the gag. "Korra, that's a little difficult when-"
"I said," she paused, placing the pink ball into his mouth callously. "No talking." Korra commanded, punctuating her words by snapping the clasp of the gag behind his head. Another rush of heat lanced down his nerves, awaiting for her punishment in elation.
Was this considered a punishment? For what he did to her? He assumed so, given the unyielding air dominating him, yet he had to confess, this was a poor attempt of a reprimand. If anything, he relished it.
Regardless of the answer, Tarrlok couldn't help but to fidget as she mockingly pressed a light and teasing kiss to the ball in his mouth, a complete contrast to the kisses they shared previously, before lethargically travelling the side of his neck, down his heaving chest, and centering over his loins.
Blood immediately rushed south and a shiver sparked down his body at the sensation of her hot breath curling around his sensitive flesh, of her nimble hand almost tentatively stroking his velvety skin, and ultimately, the single touch of her slick tongue against the side of his arousal.
With a breathy groan, Tarrlok allowed himself to indulge in his admonishment.
Undoubtedly, this was one of the most foul sights he had to come across in his lifetime.
His dear baby brother and the young Avatar.
Absolutely horrid.
He wasn't quite sure what he expected - he'd known for a long while now, yet admitting that to himself was considerably unmatched. He'd avoided it for as long as he could muster, months of denial, yet he couldn't disregard it any longer as the scene unfolded just past the few windows distancing them.
Sounds of footsteps echoed behind him. It wasn't unusual to have his Lieutenant beside him, though it was a first in this empty home Sato rented for them to investigate the Councilman.
Even gathering information from the shadows caused indignation to burn heavily in his veins.
As shrouded as he was, he observed them. At first, it'd been nothing more than to set his plans into motion, to witness the pawns in his schemes fall so gracefully into place with cold eyes. They'd played the parts well enough, unknowingly settling right into his plans just as he intended. Yet he wasn't expecting the onslaught of possessiveness coursing through him the longer he had watched them from afar. He couldn't fathom, couldn't even form a coherent thought in regards to his brother when he sensed a change in his body in the times he was with the Avatar.
When this began, the restlessness from the Avatar vexed him. Immensely so. He'd seen this type of philandering before, as nauseating as it was. The nervousness, the fidgeting, the blatant intentions burning with each teasing glance and move they made.
From afar, it was nothing more than her lingering too long in Tarrlok's office. Truthfully, it was more a hindrance than anything, that he couldn't survey his brother without her interfering. However, the longer he watched them, the more he knew something was agreed upon between them as they went about the city - other than the flagrancy of their feelings for one another, as much as they danced around the topic.
Tarrlok seemed much more at ease with the transition in their relationship, a little guarded, but that quieted after the first few meetings he'd observed… he had to sardonically ponder why that was.
It was revolting, to say the least. The last he'd seen this was a few months prior to the Avatar's abrupt arrival, though at least then, his brother had been with sophistocated partners rather than her.
As the weeks peeled by, he slipped in and out of his brother's office undetected. Time and time again, he shook his head as he marveled at his brother's indecency. The locks were child's play, the windows were nothing more than a creaking mess, yet it was easy enough to filter through the shadows just as he had been for the majority of his time in Republic City.
Nothing substantial was discovered over the weeks. Well, at least nothing he hadn't already predicted.
At most, he'd find a stray note at the edge of his desk and something shoved into a drawer, but just as he was, Tarrlok was vastly meticulous and wary. The scrawlings on expensive paper - he had to scoff at the quality his brother seemed to relish for no distinct reason other than being gaudy and boastful - were reminders of Council meetings, some calls he had to return or arrangements with foreign dignataries… then of course, the few he and the Avatar exchanged furtively.
He'd grown accustomed to inspecting his brother's office in the dark. Over the weeks, he noted the lack of personal touches - he wasn't fond of them either, considering their upbringing - as he clasped his hands behind his back and meandered around the perimeter. The only sound came from the waterfall behind the desk that seemingly never ceased, combined with the dull taps of his boots falling against the stone.
The only nod to their shared and separated past was an image of their mother, perched delicately upon one of the many shelves lining the walls. The photo must've been taken years after he left them, due to the fact that lines were pronounced at the edge of her eyes and the corners of her mouth, and her hair greyed even from the lack of color in the image. Regret flickered ever so slightly as he immersed himself in Tarrlok's completely different lifestyle. With what weak, faded memories he held in the dark recesses of his mind, this wasn't the Tarrlok he knew when he left the North.
This was a different sort of mask of a man. A veiled facade of vanity, unlike the quite literal version he had conjured over the years. He surrounded himself with material wealth, though Amon could see right through him, just as he had in their childhood.
Despite his musings, soon enough, vexation came rushing back like a wave. Unwarranted and uncompromising.
Regardless of their relations, from his observations, Tarrlok's caution was slipping. He wondered if it was due to her or the creeping exhaustion from contemplating why he was always a few steps behind. Files and important documents he typically brought home with him were left on his desk, either in a rush, or hastily placed in his drawers. It was evident in the way he blatantly eyed the Avatar lasciviously. In the way he sensed the barest hastening of blood flowing through his veins.
There were times where he'd catch glimpses of these details in the few minutes he'd stray within the shadows of buildings and trees, before returning to his duties.
The lingering touches between them, the beaming eyes, the unspoken promises hanging in the air. Even from afar, he knew the actions well enough, but that didn't make accepting it any easier.
The fact that he had to consider this was baffling in of itself.
In one instance, he sat upon a barstool, his back to them, yet so unbelievably close to the couple at the Blind Jackalope. It was uncannily amusing how he could easily blend in with the local fishermen drinking beside him and mirror those in deep inebriation. However, disapproval caused him to chuckle into his whiskey then, at the fact that his brother was so enraptured by the girl that embodied what they loathed growing up. Of course, inadvertently rather than directly, though he couldn't deny she morphed into this situation and circumstances all the more perfectly. Tarrlok had been utterly oblivious to the fact that he was sitting no more than ten feet away from them, that he could hear the nauseating insinuations and playful intonations in their voices, as much as they remained close to one another.
Just as each time he stepped out of his disguise as Amon, he concealed his heartbeat to keep from getting discovered and limited his words to nearly nothing. He opted to fumble with something in hand, or perhaps distract himself in a piss poor attempt to keep his sanity, as he easily recognized the sharp sting of Fire Nation whiskey.
As he folded his arms across his broad chest, he had to wonder how many times he'd simply walked past his baby brother without the other man knowing. It was an abundance, that was for certain.
Another instance trickled in reluctantly. It had been purely by chance. One of his subordinates tapped the wire to Tarrlok's office as per his request. He wasn't expecting anything more than calls of bribery and mundane exchanges between Councilmembers and dignitaries as he had duly noted on the lingering messages on his desk.
Of course, most of them had been precisely that, because as much as he'd been able to predict his brother's moves from afar, it was only solidified in fine print. But on one occasion, he'd been mistaken. Sorely mistaken.
Fortunately, he wasn't able to hear the conversation, yet reading the transcript of their discussion was more than enough to cause his jaw to clench and the bile to rise in his throat. Was he disgusted? Of course. Did some odd sense of greed flash through him? Surely, it was something else, if not that. Perhaps it was a mixture of overprotectiveness and the need to control the situation between the two.
Yet that train of thought died as he read on. What in spirits' name did he stumble upon?
Hurriedly, he drudged through the conversation, feeling as though his soul were detaching from his body. In a sense, he'd done enough of that in his lifetime that the sensation was familiar. The few brothers and sisters that stood around him as they waited for his response cackled - one even going so far as to mutter something indecipherable to another - yet all he could do was narrow his piercing eyes from behind porcelain slits towards the fine print. He had stood from his spot at the head of the table, the paper crinkling ever so brusquely in his clutch, though all he could muster was to merely stride towards his office with a dull headache pounding at his temples.
Amon released a measured breath from behind the mask as he leaned back into his chair with a disconcerting creak.
The signs had been splayed out for his grudging attention, his inquisitiveness outweighed his rationality. However, he was fortunate enough his motivations were hidden behind the need to survey the couple for the movement. After months of doing so, he often dismissed the flagrancy of their unsavory attraction towards each other and focused on his plans. If either his brother or the young Avatar were even remotely interested in the reasons as to why he led the Equalists, or why there was such a large support for the Revolution to begin with.
Of course, with a few visits, they weren't. He didn't expect much, considering they were both blinded by their positions of power, blinded by their abilities to bend, let alone blinded by their trivial lust, that they only played all too well into his plans.
Often enough, he questioned and contemplated why his brother would even indulge in this repulsive behavior, why he would entertain her. She was nothing more than a fickle, sheltered teenager, too brazen and impulsive for her own good. Title aside, she seemed to relish in her powers and oppressed those unknowingly. It was obvious by the way she stomped her way through the city that she hadn't experienced the wrath of various opinions and clashing views and the deep pain of those that were ill-treated - especially those who didn't revere her as some glorified bender like she'd been accustomed to. Just as many around her taught her or regarded her as.
That was exactly why he loathed her.
The mere image of his dear brother allowing her to do such things to him caused a shiver of aversion to lance down his nerves. He was no prude in the least - he was well past the years of inconsequential modesty - though watching this was agonizing. Especially in previous weeks when he heard their rapture.
It shocked him, to say the least. He had slipped into City Hall that night to merely gather more information on what they concluded with their pathetic raid. More than likely was it that Tarrlok took the bait of feigned plans to infiltrate and control the Council. He hadn't been expecting anyone to still be there, however, with one step into the building, silence was anything but present.
Instead, it'd been moans and grunts, combined with the lewd noises of water and skin slapping together that met his ears. He didn't want to believe it then, but as he hesitantly drew closer, the familiar sensation of his brother and the Avatar's pulse was undeniable. His control over his own heart faltered, even the slightest bit as they peaked together, though rather than panicking, he supposed this could work to his advantage in distracting them both.
He took a measured few steps down the corridor before concealing himself once more, and hastily slipped out of the building undetected.
Behind the mask, Amon clenched his jaw in disapproval and narrowed his piercing gaze towards the couple. Even from the building over, hidden in the shadows with his Lieutenant moving about behind him, he couldn't mask the blatant distaste he had for them. Specifically, the young Avatar. However, it intensified at the image of her taking his brother in hand, teasingly stroking him, before losing herself to the haze of lust and taking his arousal into her mouth.
The rapture on his brother's face was evident as his head tipped back against the pillows. Utterly revolting.
He wanted to avert his gaze, out of his own sanity, yet for reasons beyond his comprehension, he couldn't force himself to look away, watching them in contempt as the image seared itself into his brain like a punishment.
It was almost comical that their father claimed that their purpose in life was to destroy the Avatar and avenge him. A sardonic chuckle threatened to escape his lips in a curt exhale, though he refrained. He had to contemplate how their father - dead or alive - would take to this information. The one of his sons was outright fucking the Avatar.
Surely, there'd be nothing but blatant and quiet outrage, just as it had been in their childhood.
A shrill sputter was heard behind him that drew him out of his reverie as steam blew out of a kettle. Then the responding footsteps, and the resulting silence lapsing over them as sweltering water was poured into two mugs.
Sounds of cupboards opening and closing met his ears, however, the longer his icy gaze strayed on the couple, the more he felt morbidly intrigued.
His Lieutenant came from his side, placing both mugs atop the window sill and fogging up the glass sporadically, before taking a seat beside him. Amon considered the tea placed at his front. Oddly inviting, yet the need for whiskey, or perhaps even a few shots of cactus juice became overbearing the longer his eyes gazed upon the sight of the Avatar performing a fellatio on his brother, and said brother writhing in presumably vocal pleas.
A guttural cackle to his left was heard as his Lieutenant nudged the chair closer beside his own. "Wow," the man said with a shake of his head. As quiet as he'd been, Amon couldn't blame the man for the lack of words. "Who would've thought?" Lieuteneant sneered, scoffing, before mirroring him in leaning back against the tawdry chair with a creak.
"Are you surprised, Lieutenant?" Amon asked calmly, watching as the girl hastened her movements, taking him deeper and expressing her enthusiasm.
The man beside him shrugged noncommittally. "A little, yes. Not with Councilman Tarrlok. It was obvious he had some sick attraction for her with all the bribery and discretion with published articles and what we gathered… but her?" He understood the meaning well enough, due to the fact he often questioned what her intentions were. If it were something frivolous as his wealth and power and prowess, or whether it was genuine. It was grating on his mind to even acknowledge that this was something they both wanted, let alone there was a possibility - no matter how small or big - that she could be a part of his family. Well, with whatever family he had given his lineage, that is. "What does she find so admirable about him? Both of them, as a matter of fact."
Amon released a brusque exhale in derision. "Repulsive, isn't it? It's almost fitting that the two most garish upon the few governing the city seem to want each other." Lieutenant harrumphed in response, silence greeting them once more. It seemed as though it were an understatement, given Tarrlok's pulse peaked, his face contorted into one of ecstasy and the proof of his pleasure spurted upon her face as awful as it had been to watch.
His brother visibly shuddered, his expression utterly mystified and dazed while the Avatar eagerly cleaned herself up by licking the remnants of his seed off her fingers. Amon tilted his head to the side and scowled when the two continued rather than ceased whatever this was and saved him and his Lieutenant the mental anguish.
But no.
Instead, the Avatar kissed her way up his brother's abdomen and chest, before rekindling his interest once more. She braced herself upon mussed sheets and straddled his brother's hips, slowly moving in gyrations that caused Tarrlok to utter something incoherent against the gag strapped around him. It was obvious by their movements - as well as his attention on his brother's blood flow - that Tarrlok relished this.
His Lieutenant grasped his mug and blew cool air into the steaming tea as they silently watched the Avatar clasp an uncompromising hand around his neck. Even from the building over, Amon could see the wickedness twinkling in his brother's eyes. He was only proven further when the sudden rush of blood migrated south, much to the Avatar's delight, and she enveloped him in one smooth thrust down.
With an audible sip of his tea, the man beside him made a sound at the back of his throat. "Should we ambush them, sir? They're distracted enough. It'd be a perfect time to apprehend them and take their bending away." He said.
Amon had to admit, the idea did cross his mind when he first took his seat beside the window. It would undoubtedly hasten his plans and it'd progress their movement considerably, given the flagrancy of their so-called 'hidden' relations could cause hostility in the city and that they were the few that made this more than a little difficult because of their actions. Without a doubt, it'd certainly be an image to mull over.
Him and his Lieutenant apprehending a naked Avatar and Councilman in the midst of their passion. He could already envision the blood either draining from their heated bodies or welling up in discomfiture as they scramble to get away from them. Perhaps he'd hear screams of humiliation mixed with fear, though he imagined they wouldn't easily back down without a fight with their previous encounters - even as starkly bare as they were.
However, as much as this could work to his advantage, something indistinct was holding him back from giving a nod to accept the impromptu plan rather than merely gather information.
Instead, Amon shook his head curtly. "No. I intend to keep my promise in taking their bending last. That hasn't changed, despite the circumstances." Icy orbs hardened as he gazed upon the Avatar riding his brother, the pace more than likely torturous in the Councilman's perspective he presumed. He shifted his legs to cross at his ankles. "However, if the night continues in our favor, I might make this an exception."
His Lieutenant nodded in response and sipped at his tea while his own cooled substantially and was left untouched. Inaudible words were spilled from the Avatar as she leaned close into Tarrlok's ear, however, he couldn't make out what she'd said from the position she was in. Perhaps it was a fortunate thing, because his brother seemingly squirmed against the binds at his wrists and the Avatar smiled in response.
As the clock behind him ticked deafeningly in the silence, he was almost sure that the night would consist of nothing but this salacious view. A part of him was unsure whether he should merely leave them to their devices, or remain seated and form a plan as to how this could be of any use.
It must've been past midnight by the time Amon stifled a yawn behind the mask. Mildly intrigued, he had to wonder how they had this incessant energy to repeat their carnality, though the thought died at the back of his mind as he clenched his jaw.
"How about you take off, Lieutenant? I'll take it from here. They're not a threat to us if they're this preoccupied with each other. Besides, I'm rather fond of the idea of getting a fight out of them compared to this mess." Amon said placidly. It was almost pathetic how utterly transfixed they were with one another.
"Are you sure, sir?" He asked, stiffly leaning forward and nearly ready to make his exit out of this empty, rented house.
Casting the man a sidelong glance, Amon merely uttered, "Have a good night, Lieutenant." With a single nod in response, his Lieutenant stood from his seat and gathered the kali sticks that were left on the kitchen counter behind them.
No more than a minute later, he was gone, leaving Amon completely alone with the sight of the two still rutting in ecstasy and the Avatar tipping her head back with cries spilling past her lips. As tempting as the idea had been to emerge from the shadows and capture them, the tiniest flicker of mercy flashed through him. It wasn't in regards to the Avatar - he truly didn't think there'd be any form of mercy for her in the foreseeable future - but instead, his brother.
For the few hours he'd been hiding in this empty house directly across from Tarrlok's sizable home, the repungance was obvious. However, even from his vantage point, he sensed his brother was genuinely content. He didn't need his bloodbending to know that, but merely a simple observation of the blatant adoration crossing his features as he gazed upon the Avatar, stunned.
Perhaps it was due to the regret he felt come and go repeatedly from the years of separation that caused him to feel reluctant in apprehending them as early as he could have. Perhaps it was something else entirely. But knowing a relatively large amount of information of Tarrlok's past, whether he was there with him or not, he felt almost obligated to allow them to indulge in the night.
If not from the gathered weariness and agitation of watching his brother and the young Avatar in coital bliss, then merely to appease Tarrlok's happiness.
It still grated on his nerves, everything about this situation, yet Amon slipped the porcelain mask off and took a sharp inhale of oxygen, before standing from his seat and grasping the two mugs. He hastily gulped his cold tea as he made his way to the sink and placed the two mugs against the dusty surface, filling them up with water and gazing at his reflection absentmindedly.
As long as his brother was happy, he would remain reluctant in advancing his plan.
With the excitement from the night before, Korra didn't know why she woke up so early. Especially when she left Tarrlok's house at nearly two in the morning with nothing but shaky legs and a body sore from the exertion. Even as she snuck her way back to the Air Temple, the streets practically empty, she felt refreshed. Refreshed in a way that the bounce in her step returned tenfold and the feeling of empowerment thrummed in her veins.
After they managed a few rounds of him bound and gagged, Korra supposed she'd done enough damage, considering he'd bloodbent her then, and more than likely in the past as well. He even had the gall to do it once more - mischief and defiance glimmering in pale blue all the more ardently - when she caught his fingers flexing against the rope as she rode him to completion, in desperation.
The night left a rather large impression on her that it caused her to realize she relished the roughness. She loved having him at her mercy. She loved the idea of punishing him, of restraining him in a way and having his body yearn for her. Whether it was him writhing beneath her or the incoherent, muffled pleas for more, Korra felt her heart hammering against her chest without the guidance of his sinful skill.
When she returned to the Air Temple, sleep came easily when the fuzzy aftereffects of sex still hummed in her body.
But soon enough, that escaped her. What woke her up? Why was she even awake?
Oh.
Cracking her bleary eyes open, she groaned at the fact that sunlight was barely peeking through her window. But that hardly mattered when she felt someone glaring at her. And that someone being her airbending mentor.
Tenzin's face stared down at her from the side of her bed. It seemed as though he didn't know what color to turn, even in her dazed stupor. A worryingly fierce hue of crimson? Or maybe even a sickly pale? She didn't know and she didn't want to know, because her thoughts weren't even functioning coherently to process anything, sleep still clinging to her, tempting her immensely.
Releasing a long, suffering sigh, Korra scratched her cheek and mumbled, "Tenzin, if you wanted to talk to me, you could've just woken me up instead of standing there and looking like you want my head torn off." There wasn't even a move in response. Honestly, that probably made him even more indignant, since the tension between his brows deepened as he stood beside her with something clutched in his grasp. A part of her wanted to turn over and succumb to sleep once again, but before she could even move, something dropped onto her face… well, more like a dull smack, truthfully. "Ow!" She whimpered.
Irked, Korra reached for what fell onto her face as she sat up and realized it'd been the morning paper. What?
Her blood froze and all color from her face drained.
"Would you like to explain what that is?" Tenzin asked unnervingly calmly and nodded towards the headline that graced her eyes.
It was her and Tarrlok. From last night… or rather, just a few short hours ago when she left his place. She was kissing him just outside his front door, a hand woven into his tangled hair, appearing just as mussed as he'd been shirtless from the image. Her thoughts were completely muddled and heat crawled up her cheeks from the rumpled image she made, let alone the feeling of getting caught welling up in the pit of her stomach.
Korra knew she wouldn't be able to hide this.
Spirits, who even caught them? Were they just waiting for her to leave? She thought back to the wee hours of the morning and she certainly didn't see anyone before stepping out, especially the notable flash of a camera.
Suddenly, cerulean braved a glance towards the article underneath, dread coursing through her.
Confirmed! The headline read.
It seems Avatar Korra and Councilman Tarrlok (Representative of the Northern Water Tribe) just confirmed their relations! An anonymous tip was submitted and suggested much more had taken place just hours prior to their discovery. The couple were caught at the Councilman's house, necking and tousled as Avatar Korra allegedly snuck her way back to the Air Temple at the early hours of Saturday morning. If The Republic Inquisitor didn't know any better, it seems the couple can't keep their hands off of each other! What's to come for this newly budding couple? Does the Avatar's parents know? Does her mentor and fellow Councilman Tenzin (Representative of the Air Nation) have a say in this scandalous relationship? Will our beloved Councilman Tarrlok need to get to carving-
Her hands trembled, her curiosity warring with her rationality in wanting to find out what more they had discovered. Yet, Korra stopped before she got ahead of herself. Releasing a shaky breath out, she slowly placed the paper down on her lap and strayed on the image of her and Tarrlok in black and white and various shades of gray.
"Is this where you've been sneaking off every other night?" Tenzin asked, a visible shiver of aversion coursing down his body. In response, Korra wilted the slightest bit further and kept quiet. "Korra, what do I tell your parents?" Tenzin prodded.
She audibly gulped. "I… um…" She managed, sheepishly forcing a smile and meeting Tenzin's glowering gaze.