A/N: I have no excuse for this. Feedback of any kind is welcome and appreciated! Enjoy!
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Tarrlok wasn't sure how they got like this. He chalked it up to the heat of the moment, maybe even the wine they drank or the pai sho they played, but he'd be lying to himself. It certainly had some play into their predicament, however this was due to their own rampant lust. He knew that much.
Here he was, lying on his mattress - starkly bare - with the Avatar straddling his hips. He could feel the heat between her legs as she ground her hips into his in tight circles, the subtle tremor in her hand against his chest as she firmly pinned him to the soft sheets. His own were bound at the wrists with rope, tight enough that it chafes his skin an irate crimson, and her nimble fingers in his mouth. They're sliding against his tongue to the rhythm of her thrusts.
She's uncompromising, relentless.
She was looking at him with a glimmer of darkness in cerulean, and above all reason, a surge of delectable shivers lanced down his front. Something proud tickled the back of his mind, though it was short lived when Korra hardened her gaze and absentmindedly stroked the line between his pectorals.
Restless, Tarrlok attempted to readjust his position beneath her, but she tightened her legs around him. He couldn't stop himself from thinking back to their previous couplings, their previous meetings as per her request. He had to wonder whether her intentions were still true. This all began with the intention of that firebender of hers in mind, but at this point - given the flames of lust swimming in each graze of overheated skin and her enthusiasm with offering him his pleasure - Tarrlok had an inkling it was now less on pursuing her probending friend and more on something cunning, clandestine.
He was willing to bet their feelings for one another, despite them being as superficial as they were, were getting the better of them. He knew it was in his case, however he wasn't about to confirm anything. Especially when Korra's leaning into him, pressing desperate kisses down the side of his neck and sucking at his pulsing artery.
Spirits, even the sounds she's making were affecting him in ways he tried not to think of. With eyes squeezed shut, Tarrlok began meeting her thrusts, helpless to the delicious slickness consistently grinding against his cock.
It must've pulled her out of her reverie, because there's something reprimanding in her gaze as she leaned back just enough to graze warm lips against his cheek. A sly smirk curved the corners of his lips, delighted as he awaited his punishment.
"Do you want me, Tarrlok?" She asked, voice wavering in between genuine interest and an attempt at sultriness. Even in her poor attempt, it was working on his frayed nerves, the subtleties growing numb while he longed for the sharp sting of hair being pulled taut and a familiar rhythm growing out of their control.
In response, Tarrlok merely sucked a fraction harder on the two fingers in his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze her skin.
It was the right answer - or wrong, since now those lines blurred. Regardless, a fiery flush colored her cheeks. Korra hastily tugged her fingers out, a string of his saliva following before separating down his chin. Cooling wetness greeted the skin just below his jawline as her other fingers closed around his neck. Immediately, he felt the limited oxygen slowly fill his lungs and his mouth open under the insistent pressure of her lips. "Use your words, Councilman. You're so good at that." She whispered, just out of his reach.
"Yes," he groaned, utterly tortured by the amount of power she held over him.
However, it didn't stop there. She made him beg before she felt some form of sympathy for him and guided his throbbing length into that sweltering heat, taking a few of his lessons to heart. As much as he was losing his patience, Tarrlok desperately enjoyed the sensation of yielding to her wholly.
How did it come to this?