Chapter 1: Please show me, Professor
Dr. Sozin is impossible to talk to.
Not for a lack of trying on Katara's part, of course, but he is consistently swarmed by a hoard of zealous pupils after his lectures. And it irritates Katara to no end, because they absolutely do not need his help, they just want to flirt with the handsome and unattainable professor. She, on the other hand, is desperate. She's in her penultimate year of her medical degree, with a special talent for pathology. After a year of flat-out begging, impressing her teachers, and keeping up her streak of perfect grades, the university has allowed her to join the final year medical students in the pathology course, a year earlier than she would have originally been allowed. But Dr. Sozin is a tough teacher, and to say that she will absolutely fail without some help is not an understatement.
So it is entirely unfair, Katara thinks, viciously dotting the i's in her pathology case study, that she has been edged out of talking to Dr. Sozin again in today's class. She is instead sat in the library on a Saturday night, one of the few idiots who haven't been able to finish their work on time to have any social life.
Katara allows herself one quick moment of lamentation when she bangs her head against her desk, before folding her arms on it and leaning her cheek against her arms tiredly. The one advantage of being in an empty library is the choice of a good seat - from here, she can see past her towering books the rain lashing happily against the shaking window. She could be at Toph's party right now, drinking away all her pathology sorrows, but instead she is stuck here with work that she has no chance of ever understanding, stuck with only the other people who were too stupid to have done their work early, and...
She leaps up from her desk, to the chagrin of the startled students around her. She gathers her books in her arms and slings her bag over her shoulder, then hurtles down the corridor to where she knows the medical professors are.
She sprints past the door with his name on it, before running back and panting by his door.
Doctor Z. Sozin, M.D., it reads. She dawdles outside his door, slightly out of breath, suddenly self-conscious. She smoothes her hair down and brushes off the imaginary wrinkles from her pale blue cashmere sweater, before knocking tentatively on the door.
"Come in," calls a deep, rapsy voice.
She pushes the door open and spies Dr. Sozin sitting by his own mahogany desk, and she has to admit that, okay - she is not impervious to how attractive he is. He's got his shaggy black hair falling into his eyes as he makes a few scratches to a piece of paper with a thick, black pen. There are a few lines around his eyes, the only hints at his age. His maroon cable-knit sweater is pushed up to his elbows, revealing peaks of sharp black lines tattooed on to the corded muscles of his arms. He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and Katara looks for a moment at his scar - tough and entirely too dangerous. He finally looks up from his work and spies Katara dawdling at his door.
"Ah, Miss Kanna. Surprised to see you on campus so late; how can I help you?" He points with his pen to the chair opposite from his desk.
She fights down a blush; he knows her name. Last name, but still. She follows the pen and sits herself on the leather chair he's indicating to, setting her bag down by her feet and her books in her lap.
"Sorry to disturb you so late, sir," she begins, and he waves away her apology while sitting back in his own leather chair. "I'm just... really struggling with the case study you've assigned us."
For a moment, he doesn't say anything, but observes her from where his fingers are laced by his mouth. She meets his gaze steadily for a second before heat flares up in her, and she drops her gaze back to her fidgeting hands.
"Well," he finally says, leaning forward again while maintaining his gaze on her, "let's see the problem."
She struggles to extract the work she's done between her thick stacks of books and hands it to him, walking him through the problem. He nods at some points in her explanation, mouth tipped downwards in a thoughtful frown, and she tries her damnedest to not stare at it. As she winds down her explanation, Dr. Sozin begins to correct her mistakes, and more pieces of the puzzle fit in to her brain. She takes notes as he talks, and to her surprise, he seems to know exactly where to stop to allow her pen to catch up with her racing thoughts.
It is no surprise that he is the youngest professor in the department: he's nothing short of a genius, and a good-looking one at that. This still puts him at least a good fifteen years than her, and for some reason that thought alone makes the heat spike in her body. She grimaces and pushes the thought deep down.
"Does that make more sense?" Dr. Sozin asks, twirling his pen between his fingers and surveying her notes.
"Yes, sir, thank you so much," she replies immediately, and it does make more sense. She's got enough information now to crack this case on her own.
One end of his mouth quirks up and she stares at it, momentarily mesmerised. "You're the student who progressed early to my class, aren't you?"
Katara nods the affirmative, tearing her gaze away from his mouth and refocusing it on his eyes. She must be exhausted, because she thinks she sees amusement flit through them.
"Well," Dr. Sozin says, the half-smile still there, "from what I've seen of your work so far, it seems like you just need to get used to the pace of things in final year classes, because your work so far has been very good. You'll do fine."
Katara cannot fight down the blush this time. She is sure that she is beet red from the tips of her hair to the tips of her toes. She stammers out a thank-you. At this, Dr. Sozin's smile shifts into a smirk.
"You're welcome," he tells her, clearly amused.
Katara gathers her stuff back into her arms and makes her way to the door, intent on not embarrassing herself any more in his presence, and maybe thinking about his glasses and his cable-knit sweater in the privacy of her own room, when lightning flashes through the room, and all too soon, thunder dutifully follows. All of a sudden, they are plunged into darkness, save for the pale moonlight in the room, and Katara spins around, startled.
"Stay here, Miss Kanna," Dr. Sozin says suddenly, voice sharp. She cannot help but obey his command, standing off to the corner meekly and clutching her books against her hammering heart. Dr. Sozin gets up from his desk and walks towards the door, pulling it open. Past his shoulder, Katara spies nothing but more darkness. He closes the door and crosses his arms, turning to face her.
"Power outage," he explains, and Katara just nods, nervous. "If someone's not coming to pick you up, I'd suggest that you stay in here."
"No, sir, I was going to take the train back myself."
Dr. Sozin gestures back to the seat she was at just a few minutes ago. "Make yourself comfortable," he tells her, before pulling out a few candles from a drawer in his desk, lighting them, and placing them around the room. The room is brought into relief, complete with teetering piles of books that do not seem to fit into his multiple bookcases, a few photo frames, his degrees, and some more armchairs off to the corner. Dr. Sozin walks to the desk and turns his back to it, where two large mahogany bookcases sit side-by-side, spanning the width and height of the wall. He plucks one out of the bookshelf, and when he does so, Katara does not look at his ass, sculpted as it is. She sits back down at the chair and shoots a quick text to her group chat consisting of Sokka, Suki, Toph, and Aang, explaining her predicament. After a moment of hesitation, Katara follows Dr. Sozin's lead and pulls out her own book to start reading.
Time trickles by slowly, with Katara still reeling at the sudden change of events, and trying not to stare too obviously at Dr. Sozin. He's now put his feet up on his desk, crossed at the ankles, and is flicking through the pages of his book idly. She watches his brows furrow from behind his glasses and his throat work as he mouths along with a few lines from the book, before calling her futile efforts to read quits.
To her surprise, Dr. Sozin follows suit, slamming his own book shut and leaving it on the edge of his desk. He's looking at her again and she smiles nervously. The choppy candlelight is reflected in his eyes.
"It's Saturday night," he tells her, voice low and warm. "Isn't there something else you should have been doing instead of studying?"
"My friend Toph had a party, and I was going to go to that, but I really wanted to get this work done."
"Studious. Are you missing out on much?"
"No, sir, my plan was just to go there and get drunk." She flushes as she realises what she's said, to a professor, but he's got that funny half-smile again.
"That can be easily rectified here," he tells her, before pulling open the drawer under where the candles are stored. He pulls out firewhiskey and two glasses. He pours a bit in to each drink and hands her one.
Don't take it. You're a ridiculous drunk. You'll just embarrass yourself.
Her fingers brush his as she grabs the drink from him. He raises the glass to her before taking a sip, and she does the same, coughing slightly at its spicy, strong taste.
She thinks she hears something low coming from his throat like a chuckle.
"Too strong, Miss Kanna?" he asks her.
"Katara," she corrects, "and no. I can deal with it."
"Alright... Katara." She shivers at the smokey timbre with which he says her name. She raises the glass to her lips with a trembling hand, again, and when she sips she realises that she is in deep, deep trouble.
An hour comes and goes with surprising ease. In that time, Dr. Sozin has divested himself of not just his sweater, leaving a tight, black vee-neck underneath, but also of his title. After multiple attempts at Katara deferring to a professor the way she's comfortable with, she finally listens to Zuko's order to just call him Zuko.
As Katara gets steadily more tipsy, her grip on her self-control also begins to fade, which is why she feels comfortable now staring at the tattoos on his arm, which are inked dragons swirling around his forearms, biceps, and into the sleeves of his t-shirt. Dimly, she wonders where the tattoo stops.
Zuko volleys a series of questions at her lazily, and Katara gets carried away telling him all about her friends - especially her brother.
"He's in Kyoshi University now, and he's studying to become an engineer. And he's engaged to another engineer. Her name is Suki, and she's one of my best friends now, and Sokka - that's my brother's name - he always jokes about how I'd steal her. I miss him, a lot, but the medical degree at KU just isn't as good, and I really want to become a doctor. Where I'm from in the Southern Water Tribe, there's really no proper infrastructure yet for a large, centralised hospital, and I've seen the way that my people have struggled to get healthcare, and I'd really like to help, either in the SWT or somewhere else, so I want to finish my degree as early as possible, hence - "
"Hence the sped-up course schedule, yes," Zuko interrupts.
Katara shuts her eyes, realising how much she's been ranting. She puts her cup of firewhiskey down.
"You know, this is the first time in BU that the faculty have allowed a student to progress past their year. I was very much against it until I'd read some of your exam papers - very innovative stuff. You might consider becoming a professor yourself, Katara."
"Wow, uh... thank you." For about the millionth time, Katara blushes deeply, and this time Zuko doesn't bother to hide his amusement. He just smirks openly at her.
"Well, it's too hot here," she says defensively, and it's true. With the windows firmly shut against the torrential rain, the room begins to feel stuffy, and she thinks its time to follow Zuko's example and stop wearing her sweater. She pulls it off her head, leaving her in a white camisole top. She throws the sweater on to her bag and begins gathering up her hair, pulling it into a high, messy, fluffy bun that her curls peek out of.
When she settles back in her chair, she notices Zuko gripping his drink tightly and almost glaring at her, mouth pressed together in a tight line.
"Better?" he asks hoarsely.
Katara, flummoxed, just nods.
They slip back into easy conversation, but Zuko seems more high-strung through all of it. She asks him about himself.
"What about you, sir, no plans for tonight?"
"I was going to visit my uncle with my sister and her wife, but the work never stops." He gestures to the stack of papers to the right of his desk, on which his pen now rests. "And I thought I told you to call me Zuko?"
"Yes... Zuko." She grabs the firewhiskey again and drinks just to have something to do with her hands.
"Good girl," he tells her in a low voice. Katara is once again rendered speechless as the heat in her body ratchets up - how can he affect her this much with just words? For a wild moment she thinks about how she might just be struck with lightning if he ever so much as touched her.
"Just you?" Katara finds herself asking without even a conscious thought.
"Sorry?"
"Is it just you going to visit your uncle and sister, or are you going with someone else, or..." Katara blushes, horrified, and pushes the cup of firewhiskey far away from her. She's not drinking any more tonight. Zuko watches the cup travel further across his desk before his eyes snap to hers, something smouldering and unidentifiable hidden in them.
"Just me, Katara," he tells her in a quiet voice, before clearing his throat. "You're right, it is too hot in here." And she can't control her self from staring blatantly when his own hands gather up his hair and pull it into a topknot, before securely fastening it with the tie that's been on his wrist this whole time. A few errant locks escape and hang back down his temples. Finally, he watches her watching him, watches her chest heave shallowly, and his gaze becomes sharp.
"Consider this payback," he all but purrs, before his demeanour shifts suddenly and he's pinching the bridge of his nose, just below where his glasses are seated. "Katara... the final exams... for final year they're marked by a regulatory international panel... I'm not on that committee. You know that, right?"
It's as if Zuko has flung the windows wide open and the raging storm itself has doused out any warm feelings she's harboured. Hurt rises up her chest and she looks at him, eyes wide and uncomprehending. Did he think that she stayed here to suck up to a professor that would improve her grade? Defiance follows soon after the hurt, and Katara lifts her chin up.
"I don't know what you're trying to say, but I've gotten to where I am only because of my hard work. I'd never dream of taking shortcuts, ever... sir," she tells him lowly, ignoring his sharp, golden eyes.
"Katara, that's not what I meant - "
"Thank you for your time and your help, Dr. Sozin. I'll ask Toph to pick me up; I'll see you in class."
"Katara - "
She's already picking up her sweater, her bags, and her books, intent on hurrying out of here and potentially never going to his class again. She has embarrassed herself beyond doubt, and she wonders whether she can scrape a C without ever seeing him again, and how that would affect her chances of further study, or getting into the best residencies, or -
"Katara. Stop." His voice is sharp, commanding.
Her fingers hover by the solid brass handle on his door, before she turns around, staring at her flats.
"Come here," he says, and she shivers at the underlying authority in his tone. She's always felt a need to please her professors, and this time is no different. Her traitorous feet carry her over and she finally catches a glimpse of his own shoes.
"Look at me," he breathes, and when she doesn't comply he lets out a low growl. His hooked finger catches her chin and he tilts her head up so that she's staring into his golden eyes, now being blown black.
"What I meant is," he whispers, "that you don't need to worry about the ethical implications of - that you'd be doing nothing wrong. Do you understand me?"
Oh. Oh.
She jerks her head up and down as much as she can with his finger still under her chin, and he lets out another growl.
"Use your words."
"Yes... sir," she whispers, and watches the gold in his eyes get entirely swallowed by black.
He begins to tug her backpack off her shoulder, before pulling out the books and sweater from her arms and tossing it onto the nearest armchair in a corner of the room.
"Do you want this, Katara?" His eyes flicker back and forth between hers.
"Yes, sir," and oh, how much she wants it. But it's not enough for Zuko.
"Tell me, Katara. I need to be sure."
"I want this," she whispers, flushed, as her own hand comes up to grasp the wrist holding her chin up.
"What do you want?" The index finger of his free hand loops around the belt buckles of her dark jeans, and he yanks her closer suddenly. She is now pressed flush against him, and she whimpers. He flashes her a wicked smile.
"I want you to kiss me, sir," she breathes, watching his lips in anticipatory eagerness, and he growls once again, before he swipes his tongue across her lower lip. She can't stop her surprised mewl as he sucks her lower lip in between his teeth, and with a groan, he is gone.
He kisses her like it his birthright: demanding, greedy. The hand supporting her chin is now at the back of her neck, holding her steady as he kisses her with reckless abandon, all teeth and tongue. She clutches on to his shoulders and tries to stay afloat of the kiss that is setting her on fire; she think she might suffocate under the weight of the kiss, but she doesn't mind, not when the hand looping around her belt buckle slides into the pocket at the back of her jeans, cupping her ass, and bringing her into very direct contact with his hard length. She moans into his mouth, grinding against him subconsciously, when he suddenly picks her up by the waist, still kissing her. She squeaks and wraps her legs around his waist, and he groans. He seats her on the edge of the desk before he pulls back, panting harshly.
For a second, they just stare at each other, Katara's panties becoming steadily slicker. He growls lowly before his hand comes up to grab her neck, adding a bit of pressure and tilting her head up. She whimpers and writhes slightly on the table when his teeth find the side of her neck, biting and kissing down to where her neck meets her shoulder. He bites there suddenly, and she cries out, her hands flying to grip on to his hair as he marks her ruthlessly with his teeth. She's so wet now she's sure she's seeping past her panties, but Zuko doesn't stop, sucking and biting in a way that she's sure she cannot hide tomorrow. Finally, he's satisfied, pulling back and tracing the place he's just bitten with his finger.
"What else do you want?" he asks, both hands coming to hold her waist.
"Touch me," she pleads.
He raises an eyebrow. "Touch you? Where?"
"Everywhere," she cries, writhing against him desperately.
"Oh, I'll touch you everywhere, alright," he snarls, before puling her flats off and yanking her jeans down. He undoes her bun and her hair cascades down her shoulders. He spreads her legs open and steps back, eyeing the soaked patch in her panties before his eyes travel up past her heaving chest, past the bruise on her neck, and into her eyes.
"So pretty, I could take a picture of you just like this," he murmurs, and she whimpers, not daring to close her legs. He holds his hand out and she takes it. He helps her get down from the desk and he sits on the chair she found him in when she first came into his office. He leans back.
"Strip," he commands.
Katara bites her lip, embarrassed, before grabbing the hem of her camisole and pulling it off. Underneath, she is wearing a dark blue bra that does not match her white panties at all, but Zuko lets out a pleased, hungry sound anyway. She reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, but as she lets it fall, she covers her breasts with crossed arms, suddenly self-conscious.
"Come here," he purrs, holding his arms open to her. She steps past her clothes on the floor and Zuko grabs her hips, seating her so that she is straddling his left thigh, facing him.
"So beautiful," he murmurs, before kissing her deeply. When she is panting and holding on to his hair again for support, he kisses a trail down her neck and scrapes his teeth lightly against her left nipple, his hand coming up to play with her right one. She cries out, rocking against his leg, and he hums in response.
"That's it, good girl," he tells her, and the arm not tweaking her nipple wraps around her waist, helping her grind against him. He goes back to licking and sucking both nipples steadily, and Katara cannot help but let the heat flare up in her. Finally, Zuko pulls his mouth away and leans back, and when Katara stops grinding against him, unsure of what to do next, he grabs her hips and continues to grind.
"You're going to make yourself cum this way," he tells her, his voice hot with command. "You're going to make a mess of your panties before I even touch you there, do you understand?"
She nods frantically, increasing the pace of her hips, when he lightly slaps her ass.
"Yes, sir!" she amends quickly, feeling the rough texture of his jeans against her clit even through her panties.
"Good girl," he praises, voice gruff, one hand still toying with her nipple. "Such a good girl for me. Look at you, making a mess of yourself, just because I told you to. Your little need-to-please attitude. I knew it from the moment I saw you; I've wanted to see you like this for so long."
She cries out something that may be his name at his words, having never heard anyone talk to her like that. The pressure builds steadily and she feels like a dam is about to burst, and Zuko keeps talking, his voice low and filthy.
"God, you'd do anything I told you to, wouldn't you? If I asked you to choke on my cock you would, wouldn't you? You'd let me eat you out, right here on my desk; you'd let me tie you up and make you cum until you pass out, wouldn't you? You'd just look at me with your big, blue eyes and say 'yes, sir', all soft and pretty, aren't you? You're going to cum all over my leg, aren't you, pretty girl?"
"Yes, sir!" she cries out as she cums, jerking in his grip as she feels it gush out of herself. Her clit throbs pleasurably with the release that she knows has soaked not only her panties but also his slacks. She sags against him, spent. His voice switches immediately to soothing, running a hand up and down her back. His other hand is still on her hip, and he makes her grind against his leg slowly, her clit twitching with the aftershocks and the overstimulated pleasure.
Finally, he lets up, stroking her hair away from her face, which is buried against his neck.
"How do you feel?" he asks her, kissing the top of her head.
"M'good," she affirms, closing her eyes sleepily.
"Good girl," he tells her again. His grip tightens on her. "How many times has someone else made you cum?" he asks her. Katara finds this an odd question, but casts her mind back to Jet, who would always give her a good orgasm but would always stop once he came.
"Just once," she mumbles, burrowing closer to him.
"Just once? For a pretty little thing like you?" he asks, astonished. The hand running up and down her spine cups her ass. "I think we can beat that, don't you?"
Katara stirs sleepily, the words registering in her mind. "Beat that?" she whispers, her clit still twitching.
"Let's make you cum twice more."
Despite her exhaustion, heat snaps through her again. He encourages her to get up off his lap, and they both look at the wet spot Katara has left behind on his slacks. She makes a mortified sound, and he laughs lowly.
"Such a mess," he coos, standing up to rid himself of the slacks. He's left in his briefs, which has its own wet spot, and that tight vee-neck. Without thinking, Katara strides forwards and slides her hands underneath the t-shirt, already revelling in the bunched muscles.
"So eager," he praises, helping her pull off his t-shirt. She can finally see the tattoos she's been curious about, the dragon's body running across the expanse of his torso and its forked tongue ending near his hip. Katara follows the trajectory first with her index finger, and then, with slight hesitation, her lips. She kisses him across his chest, and he encourages it with harsh pants and hands fisted by his side. She takes his left nipple between her teeth and nibbles - he groans. Finally, she kisses across his stomach, past his belly button, and veers on to his left hip, where the forked tongue flicks out just above the band of his low-hanging briefs.
She bites her lip at the sight of the bulge in his briefs, and cups it after a moment of hesitation, thrilling in the way his breath comes out as a snarl. She curls her fingers into the band and begins to pull it down, her breath hitching when it reveals him, long, and hard, and huge. She dimly registers Zuko kicking his briefs off to the side, and suddenly he's saying, "Katara. Wait."
She pauses, looking up at him unsurely. Did she do something wrong?
He seems to read her mind, because the feral look in his eyes softens and he cups her cheek for a second. Then, he turns around and sits back on his leather chair.
"Come here," he commands, eyes dark and voice low.
She crawls over, and Zuko snarls again at the sight, and then she is seated between his legs. She looks up at him for direction, but he does nothing more than breathe heavily and smooth her hair away from her face. Finally, she lowers her eyes to his cock and timidly wraps her hand around it. In all of her time dating Jet, she's never been able to get pleasing him right. But she is spurred on by Zuko's groans, and the way his mutterings tip back into being filthy.
"That's it," he tells her in a tight, strained voice, "so good. Fuck, you look so hot sitting there like that. God, I've thought about this so often - suck it, baby. Go on."
Katara, emboldened by his words and his order, tentatively licks his head and tastes the saltiness there. She scoots closer to him and begins to suck him in, gagging as he gets too close to the back of her throat. Tears gather in her eyes and she pulls off quickly, coughing.
"It's okay, let me show you. Keep your eyes on me. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," she whispers, and he fists his hand in her unbound hair. Slowly, he pushes himself into her mouth, his eyes on her the entire time. When she begins to gag he pauses, allowing her to breathe, and then pushes in a bit more. Finally, he hits the back of her throat and she really can't help but choke, her eyes streaming as she looks up at him.
He groans deeply. "So pretty. You're doing so well for me."
She moans around his cock at the praise, and Zuko, surprised, bucks his hips.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Katara - " he begins to pull her off, but Katara whimpers, refusing to move. She likes seeing him like this. The taste really isn't pleasant, and the gagging is very uncomfortable, but Zuko is looking at her like he's losing control, and she can't help but revel in that look. She rests her head on his thigh, and Zuko begins to thrust in in slow, long strokes, hitting the back of her throat evenly. A few tears escape her from all the gagging, and Zuko finally pulls back, breaking the string of spit connecting his cock to her sore, red lips.
"Good girl," he praises soothingly. "How about I repay you the favour?"
She has no time to process what that means when he lifts her up and seats her against the edge of the desk. He kneels, still naked, and spreads her legs open. He runs two fingers across her thighs and holds it up for her to see. His fingers are soaked. She's seeped well past her panties and on to her thighs.
She squirms, flushing, and tries to close her legs. But he's placed between them and he holds her knees apart, frowning up at her. With his stern expression, Zuko fades away and is replaced by Dr. Sozin.
"Behave," Dr. Sozin tells her, before hooking his fingers in her panties and dragging them down her legs slowly. He inhales sharply, reverent and cocky.
"Is this all for me?" he asks lowly, and Katara makes an embarrassed noise. But she answers her professor, nodding, and a slow smirk spreads across his face.
"Say it," he demands.
Katara is never one to not follow an order from a professor. "It's - it's all for you," Katara whispers quietly, beet red. He smiles wickedly, and Zuko returns, hungry.
"Poor thing," he tells her, watching her squirm and whimper without disguising his satisfaction, "so wet, so needy... I can take care of you, would you like that?"
But he doesn't wait for an answer, as if it is his due to be able to take care of her, and he buries his face between her legs with no preamble. Katara shrieks, gripping on to his hair for dear life as Zuko sucks and licks at her clit. He works a finger into her, just letting it rest there as Katara writhes from where she is sat on the table. Finally, his fingers start pumping, curling - he is clearly experienced in a way she cannot compare with, and she is still sensitive from her first orgasm, having never been expected to go again in her entire life. She bucks against his strong hold against her stomach and Zuko growls every time she tries to squirm away, redoubling his efforts by sliding another finger into her, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one spot in her that makes her see white, there's nothing to do but obey the way he demands another orgasm from her -
She feels herself building to another peak, impossibly, but he pulls away from her fractionally when she tumbles blindly towards it - the aborted feeling rips through her and she nearly cries, frustrated.
"What was that?" Zuko's asking her, amused.
"Please please please," she hears herself beg, distantly, sounding wrecked and desperate.
"Please what?" he replies, still smirking up at her.
"Please let me cum - please make me cum - please, please, oh..."
Zuko's mouth returns to her clit and he laves at it dutifully, steadily, and the rhythm only falters for a second. She looks down to see what's stopped him, and he's looking up at her unflinchingly, his hand fisted around his cock, stroking slowly. She sees a flash of white between his fist and his cock and she realises, pulse jumping, that he's using her panties to mastrubate.
No sooner than the realisation settles over her does she cum, the force of it hitting her like a freight train. She gasps, chokes his name, writhing and bucking against his steel-like grip, and he doesn't let her up, but instead stills his fingers and licks slower, more gently, drawing out the force of the orgasm.
It's too much, the pressure of waiting for him to fuck her, but his tongue is still insistently rubbing against her clit slowly, and she tries to squirm away, pushing his head back. He finally relents, pulling away and wiping his slick mouth with the back of his hand.
"Two down, one to go," he breathes, eyeing her wickedly. He stands up so quickly it makes her dizzy. She lets out a whine, beginning to shake her head.
"What's that?" he demands, mirth sapped from his voice. "No?"
"I can't..."
"You don't want me to fuck you?"
Unbidden, the image of him, with his glasses and his tattoos, holding her down, fucking her roughly, enters her head. Her breath stutters. "I do - "
"So you don't want to come while I fuck you?"
"I can't!" she repeats, whimpering desperately.
"Oh," he snarls, suddenly flipping her over so that her stomach is on the desk and her toes are touching the floor, "I think you'll find that you can."
He runs the tip of his hard cock through her folds, and she lets out a loud, embarrassing moan, when he pushes into her twitchy, oversensitised pussy. He keeps pushing, and pushing, and she thinks he won't be able to fit.
"So big," she nearly sobs. She's still sensitive from her orgasm, but the feel of him, filling her up so completely she forgets what it was like before him, wipes out everything but a need for him to drive her out of her mind.
"It's okay, sweet girl," he coos, running a soothing hand down her back as he finally bottoms out. She clenches around him, gyrating experimentally - it's so big, and she doesn't know how she's going to be able to take it - and he grips her hips with bruising force.
"Katara. Stay still. You need to adjust."
Just to be contrary, she wriggles on him again, and he bites back a deep groan. He spanks her lightly, pitching her forwards, and she retaliates by fucking herself on his cock fully, begging him in a way that she knows will drive him crazy.
"Please, please, need you - oh - please fuck me, I've been so good for you, please fill me up, I need you - "
He spanks her again, more roughly, and she lets out a high-pitched whine. "Little brat," he snarls, and he begins to pull out of her. Panicking, she clenches around him, but he thrusts back in brutally.
He sets a punishing pace that has her struggling to breathe from where she lies on the desk, cheek pressed against a stack of papers and hands gripping the edges of the desk. His balls slap her pussy with every thrust, and she feels like she's seeing stars, no longer in control of what she's saying.
"So good, oh, oh, right there, please..."
"You like that?" Zuko pants from where he stands behind her. "You like me fucking you like this? Like nobody ever has? You're so fucking tight, look at your tight little pussy swallowing me up, greedy little thing..." He groans. "Touch yourself. Now, Katara."
Shakily, she lets go of the desk with one hand and reaches to rub her clit slowly, shrieking at the first touch but not daring to disobey him, in case he stops fucking her. The thought is so painful, the idea that he might pull out of her before he cums, and she finds herself asking, "Please, sir, will you please cum inside me?"
He stills completely, bottomed out. He's panting. "Katara... are you sure?"
She nods as best she can with her face against the papers. "I'm safe, please."
He groans, low and needy, and picks up the pace again. There is no inhibition left in him, not with the way he pulls at her hair to keep her arched, not with the way he demands her to touch herself faster, not with the way he uses his free hand to snake his way down her back, and between her butt cheeks -
She squeals, trying to get away, but Zuko lets go of her hair to spank her twice. He pulls her cheeks open as he keeps up his punishing pace, and she tries wiggling away, begging, "I've never - please - "
But Zuko is beyond gone. "What's the matter, little girl?" he snarls. "I thought you wanted me to touch you everywhere?"
His thumb finds her puckered bud, and with her own fingers working at her clit, and his balls slapping against her pussy, when he presses down on the bud she explodes around him, crying out his name, and he thrusts into her oversensitised body once, twice, thrice, and then cums deep inside her, groaning her name.
He lifts her up with ease and sits down with her on his lap, his cock still deep inside her. They are both panting, trying to catch their breath, and Katara burrows close to him, exhausted. Her twitching pussy clenches around his slowly softening cock.
"Good girl," he tells her, running a hand through his hair while the other hand plays lightly with her nipple. She hums slightly in response, her face buried in his neck. They stay like this for a while until the lights turn on abruptly. Startled, Katara wakes up from her stupor, and Zuko chuckles.
"How do you feel?" he asks her, leaning her back to look into her eyes.
She notices the upward quirk of his mouth. "Really good," she says.
"Not too much?"
She shakes her head, feeling shy. She's never had sex like this before, not with the dirty talk, not with giving her will over to someone else, but she feels more sated than she's ever felt.
Zuko lets out a sigh of relief, or contentment. "I'm glad." He lifts her off his cock, and as the cum starts running down her leg he's already pulling her panties back up, followed by her jeans. He lovingly pats her pussy. She squirms, uncomfortable, as his cum begins to seep into her soaked underwear.
He is looking at her as though he knows what she's thinking. "Keep it there," he tells her, "until you get home." The thought of going home, peeling off her underwear, and seeing his cum coating her swollen pussy, makes her whimper helplessly with sudden arousal.
Zuko finally seats her on his chair, and tells her, "I think everything is fine now with the electricity, but I'm going to go check. Stay here." He pulls on his clothes quickly, leaving the maroon sweater behind as he strides out the door. Katara curls up on his armchair, sleepy and sated. The armchair smells like him - spicy, musky, with a tang of citrus. She smiles.
But what she's done with Zuko - Dr. Sozin - comes back to her in sporadic, scattered pieces, and when Katara has regained some of her mental function, she realises that she's had sex with her professor.
Her eyes widen in horror - what has she done? Imagine what people would say if they found out - Dr. Sozin's job would be at risk. And if he didn't resent her now then he would at that point. Unless this is a regular habit again, in which case she's going to have to put a stop to it next time. That's if he even wants to see her again, what if he regrets it already? And what if he doesn't? Then what, do they start dating? Can she date a guy fifteen years her senior? What would Sokka say? Her dad? Or maybe they could just keep fucking, but that again puts his job at risk...
Katara sits upright on the armchair abruptly. There's only one thing for her to do right now.
She gathers all of her stuff quickly, and without so much of a second glance at the now messy office, without thinking about Zuko's expression when he comes back to find her missing, she flees.
A/N: I've had this idea for a long time so this is my way of purging my brain of trash. Welcome to my trash brain.
btw... it gets pretty kinky later so if that's not your thing please mind the tags!
