Chapter 61: We Aren't Done Yet [R-18]
Azula's hand barely brushed the fabric of her tunic when Zuko moved. With a predatory swiftness that belied his earlier exhaustion, he reached out, his fingers closing around her wrist in an unyielding grip. He didn't speak, but the message in his piercing gaze was clear, burning with a renewed, possessive fire. He tugged, a firm, commanding pull that unbalanced her, sending her stumbling back towards him.
"We're not done," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest, an assertion of dominance that stripped away her carefully constructed composure. His grip shifted, sliding from her wrist to her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulled her closer still, until her bare front was pressed against the lingering heat of his own body.
Her smirk faltered, a flicker of surprise, then a familiar glint of challenge returned to her eyes. She tried to pull back, a subtle, almost imperceptible resistance, but his hold was too strong, too resolute. Without breaking eye contact, Zuko took a step backward, then another, guiding her with an almost brutal tenderness towards the low-slung bed in the corner of the chamber. The heavy furs and dark fabrics seemed to beckon them, a primal stage for their escalating desire.
He didn't release her hand until her knees brushed the edge of the mattress. Then, with a swift, powerful motion, he pushed her back. Azula landed with a soft thump on the sumptuous furs, her body splaying out in an involuntary invitation. Before she could fully register her position, Zuko was over her, pinning her with his gaze, his intensity overwhelming. He didn't wait for permission. His knee slid between her thighs, parting them gently but firmly, and he positioned himself, his semi-hard dick already throbbing, searching for her slick entrance.
There was a moment of suspense, a silent battle waged in their locked eyes, before Zuko leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "You wanted me to show you what I'm capable of, Azula," he murmured, his voice laced with a dangerous promise. "I haven't even begun."
With that, he plunged into her again. Not with the frantic, animalistic thrust of before, but with a deliberate, slow invasion that stretched her, filled her, and claimed her inch by agonizing inch. She gasped, her breath hitching, a sound of both shock and burgeoning pleasure. He was harder, thicker this time, and the sensation of being completely, utterly full was intoxicating. Her thighs flexed around his hips, partly to push him away, partly to draw him deeper within.
Zuko watched her face, the way her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the slight tremor that ran through her body. He began to move, a slow, methodical rhythm that started shallow, teasing the sensitive nerves just inside her entrance, before sinking deeper with each stroke. The mattress groaned softly beneath them, a counterpoint to the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies intertwining. He gripped her hips, digging his fingers into the soft curve of her outer thighs, lifting her slightly to change the angle, pushing against her cervix with each deep thrust.
"Mmmnnh..." Azula's coherent words dissolved into a low moan, her head arching back, exposing the pale skin of her throat. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, her nails digging in just enough to anchor herself against the relentless assault. He was pushing her to her limits, past her control, past her carefully constructed defenses. Each time he pulled back, a fraction of an inch, the anticipation was unbearable, only to be shattered by the next deep, guttural thrust that buried him to the hilt.
He started to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more demanding. His hips slammed against hers, a rhythmic percussion that vibrated through their intertwined bodies. The air grew thick with their heat, the scent of sex and sweat a potent elixir. He felt her clench around him, a responsive spasm that tightened his pleasure, and he groaned, his own control fraying.
He wanted to see her break, truly break, under his touch. With a sudden surge of strength, Zuko reached down, sliding his hands under her thighs, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist. This opened her further, presenting her to him in a new, more vulnerable position. He dove in, sinking to his balls, the sensation of her tight, slick channel encompassing him completely.
He began to thrust from this new angle, deeper, harder, his focus solely on driving her to the brink. Her heels dug into his lower back as he piston-pumped into her, the rhythmic impact of his pelvis against hers a testament to the raw power he exerted. Each thrust felt like it reached her very core, eliciting a sharper pant from her. He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of her neck, tasting her salty skin, feeling her pulse throb wildly against his lips.
"Zuko... brother... please," she gasped, her voice ragged, the edge of her usual commanding tone completely absent, replaced by a desperate plea that thrilled him to his core. It wasn't a plea for him to stop, but to continue, to push her further into the oblivion he was creating.
He didn't ease up. Instead, he spun them quickly, expertly, rolling her onto her hands and knees. The transition was seamless, her body still impaled on his as he shifted behind her. Doggy style. The new angle was devastating. He could see her arching back, her spine a graceful curve, her dark hair splayed across the furs. He gripped her hips again, guiding her movements, pulling her closer so he could thrust even deeper, penetrating her from behind with a ferocity that made her cry out.
The sight of her ass clenching around him, the way her body bucked and swayed with each pump, was incredibly arousing. He could feel the deep, knotting friction, the way he was stretching her, completely filling her. He drove into her with powerful, unyielding strokes, his rhythm primal and relentless. The wet slaps of skin on skin echoed in the room, accompanied by her sharp gasps and his own guttural grunts. He felt her inner walls milking him, contracting around him, urging him on.
"You like that, Azula?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, his breath hot against her ear as he leaned in. "Do you like being taken, completely?"
She didn't answer with words, but with a frustrated groan, her hips bucking back against him, demanding more. Her fingernails scored the furs beneath her, digging in as if to anchor herself against the storm building inside her. He could feel the tension ratcheting up within her, the subtle trembles that coursed through her frame.
Still, he wasn't done. He pulled out just enough to release the suction, then, with a powerful lift, he pulled her back onto her back, settling between her spread legs. He then pulled himself up, using her stomach as leverage, his muscles straining, until she was on top of him, straddling his hips, his dick still buried deep inside her.
"Your turn," he rasped, his eyes locking with hers. "Ride me, Azula."
Her eyes, still wide with passion, narrowed slightly. A flicker of her old defiance, but it was quickly subsumed by the raw need that still gripped her. She moved, at first tentatively, then with growing confidence, her hips rotating, grinding down on him, finding a rhythm that was both punishing and exquisitely pleasurable. She leaned forward, her hands bracing on his chest, her hair falling around her like a dark curtain.
She began to control the pace, lifting herself high, then slowly descending, milking him with every inch. The sensation was exquisite, a deep internal massage that made his entire body hum. He watched her face, saw the sheen of sweat on her brow, the parted lips, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She was riding him with a desperate hunger, her body moving with an innate, carnal grace. Her eyes would meet his, a challenging intensity, then flutter closed as a wave of sensation washed over her.
He reached up, cupping her ass cheeks, guiding her movements, making sure she rode him deeper, harder. He felt the tightness, the warmth, the unrelenting pleasure of her body molding around his. Her moans became more frequent, more desperate, as she pushed herself closer and closer to the edge.
The climax hit them both almost simultaneously. Zuko felt it building, a searing pressure that tightened his core, the blood roaring in his ears. He gripped her hips, thrusting up into her with every ounce of his remaining strength, meeting her own frantic, bucking movements.
Azula screamed, a raw, primal sound torn from her throat as her entire body seized. Her hips bucked wildly, her muscles contracting around his dick in a spasmodic dance. She collapsed onto him, her head falling onto his shoulder, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Every muscle in her body trembled, radiating the fading echoes of pure, unadulterated release.
Zuko groaned, a long, drawn-out sound of ecstasy as he emptied himself deep inside her, his own climax a hot, pulsing wave that left him utterly spent. His body convulsed, his hips bucking in unison with hers even as her movements slowed. He held her tightly against him, their bodies slick with sweat, entwined in the aftermath of a brutal, yet undeniably fulfilling, battle of wills. For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing and the thudding of their hearts, beating a frantic rhythm against each other.
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