A/N: This story was request by ObeliskX, otherwise I don't think would have thought to write it at all. So thanks for the inspiration and for appreciating my writing skills enough to trust me to do the dirty work (heh heh). This was a lot of fun. My first fic request and my second smutfic. It's like 75% smut, I'm not gonna lie. Also, some parts of this fic were inspired by sharkflip's Enslaved and the depiction of Inuit life.

Warnings: Did I mention smut?/noncon/bondage

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The century long war had finally come to an end.

And Zuko was no closer to home than he had been before.

The South Pole was like an alien planet. Barren terrains dressed in white contrasted the stone grey sea. He already missed home; his home.

The Fire Nation had many reparations, not only for their lost citizens and demolished cities, but for the war-torn trail they had blazed across the world. Global leaders built an alliance, demanding execution of all Fire Nation royals and disbandment of their monarchy. But it was the beginning of peacetime, and in retribution, the Fire Nation monarchy did fall, but not in the way that was expected.

Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, suddenly found himself the heir apparent to the Fire Throne. And just as quickly, he found himself in the center of a politically-based alliance, in the form of a betrothal. He was to marry. He was promised to a Southern Water Tribe Chieftain's daughter, a waterbender; and he was to live out the rest of his matrimony in that tribe.

On the inside, he was angry, embarrassed, and hateful. At one point, even he had realized that his nation's attempts to succeed in global power was futile. It was easy to believe when he had been younger, when he'd only known the grounds of the Royal Palace, and when his father had seemed so strong, so powerful. But he knew too much now. And now because of his father's foolishness, he was to suffer. Even if he was married into this Chieftain's family, it was obvious enough that he would be blamed for an entire nation's war crimes and for a former Fire Lord's deranged ambitions, who was already locked away, hidden from the world.

Their reception to the village was small. It appeared that the only ones waiting for their arrival was the High Chieftain and his family, including Zuko's future bride.

Katara, he'd been told was her name.

"Welcome, Fire Lord,"

The Chieftain spoke politely, but his tone was anything but. Chief Hakoda was an honored warlord, with a well-known reputation that preceded him. But the most important thing that Zuko knew about him was that he'd been one of the few leaders that had argued against the execution of the Fire Nation monarchs and nobles.

"Thank you for having us, Chief Hakoda. We are honored by your hospitality," Zuko replied.

Both he and his uncle bowed in the traditional Fire Nation way.

He introduced his family-his mother was a weathered old woman who served on the Elder Council; her crystalline eyes holding a reserved wisdom. She never spoke directly to him, only murmuring in their native language to her son. The Chief's son, Sokka, was his same age. He looked much like his father, although lankier, leaner in build. He welcomed them quietly, shifting uncomfortably. And finally, Zuko found himself staring into the eyes of his betrothed for the first time.

"Fire Lord Zuko," she said, her voice soft and heavy with the accent of her native tongue.

She dipped her head slightly in greeting. It would've been extremely disrespectful in the Fire Nation if she had greeted anyone like that, but the way she did it was fluid, graceful. And even though she was not royalty, she could have fooled anyone.

Her face was kind, with the common cerulean blue eyes of her people; just like her family, but hers were rounder, clearer. He had to admit, that she was quite beautiful. As he continued to study her features, her lips fell into a smile, surprising him.

He smiled back, until he realized that she'd only been doing so because he was so blatantly staring.

Behind him, his uncle coughed loudly.

"Perhaps, we can move our conversation to sheltered quarters, Chief Hakoda?" His uncle asked. "I must admit, in my old age, the cold can be quite unforgiving,"

Chief Hakoda smiled, chuckling a bit.

They all walked towards the village, the ship's crew carrying trunks and chests of their belongings and gifts for the bride's family.

He flanked the back of the group, cursing at himself, for not even being able to speak to his future bride. Agni, he was an idiot.

"I think that your bride is quite taken with you," his uncle said offhandedly.

They were enjoying dinner, or as much as you could enjoy seaprunes and dried seal meat, along with the rest of the entire village.

Zuko sputtered, coughing back the soup in his mouth. He garnered the attention from several of the tribe members, watching him carefully, but then they returned to their meals and their own conversations.

"Uncle… just… don't," he said defeatedly, after gathering his bearings.

As encouraging as his uncle wanted to be… it was no use. Zuko's predilection was beyond that, there was no cheering up to the fact that he was marrying into a family who hated him. Everyone hated him in this Agni-forsaken world.

"I'm just telling you what I see," he replied.

His uncle shrugged, continuing to enthusiastically enjoy his food, much like he usually did.

"It's been three days since we've met and she's spoken to me once," he argued. "I highly doubt that she is taken with me. I'll be lucky if she tolerates me."

Uncle Iroh set his bowl down, sighing deep with his belly. He lowered his head slightly, speaking in hushed tones.

"Fire Lord Zuko, you must remember, the Southern Water Tribe is very different from the Fire Nation. The customs may seem unusual, but most of all, their women will seem even stranger. I only notice certain things, because I have seen it many times before. She teases you with looks and hides herself because she is trying to court you. Although, that is not much different than the rest of the world,"

He blushed slightly, ducking his head into his own bowl.

"What? Why should we court if we are already to be married?"

"Ah, you lack romance, my young nephew. It seems I did not teach you enough in that area of your life,"

Zuko scowled, shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.

It was on the fifth day when Zuko was able to see Katara again.

Ever since his arrival, the Southern Water Tribe village appeared to be abuzz in preparation for the upcoming ceremony, which would include an elaborate feast. The people were busy in their individual tasks; even young children assisted by carrying tools and hand-woven baskets nearly as big as themselves. His status as an outsider was even more prominent as he walked about listlessly without being able to offer any help.

While the adults mostly ignored him, the children were curious little things. The bold ones would poke and prod him during their given breaks, and run away seeing if he would chase after them. He never did, for obvious reasons.

He had trailed away from the populated common area of the village to clear his head, to have some space to just think.

As he approached the edge of the village, he stared out towards the tumultuous sea. It was a clear reminder that he had nowhere to go, trapped not only geographically but by an unseen promise that carried more weight than he could handle. He huffed angrily, hot steam escaping his lips due to the cold and not by any firebending. He started at a rustle behind him, turning abruptly.

And there she was.

"Hi," he said, meekly.

Katara stared at him, then out to the ocean as if trying to understand what he was looking at; what he might be looking for.

"Hello," she replied formally.

Although the four nations spoke their own languages, there was a universal dialect, more commonly used among the educated and the well-traveled. He knew from the first time that he met her that despite her thick accent, she knew what she was saying and comprehended more than she let on.

She approached him slowly, her boots now audibly crunching into the frozen ground. Standing at his side, she too looked out into the endless blue.

"It is different here than your Fire Nation," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Do you… miss your home?" She asked hesitantly.

When he looked at her, she was still staring forward, avoiding his gaze. He sighed wearily.

"This is my home now."

She inhaled sharply, as if she had more to say. But when she provided no further comment, Zuko looked at her; he really looked at her. She was after all, the only person who could somewhat understand his position-being thrust into a political marriage for the benefit of others, for peace, for posterity. Their wants and needs were secondary. But perhaps, someday, they could grow to love each other through their mutual understanding.

"I know that this is not easy for you, just as it isn't easy for me. But I will be a good husband to you, I promise you that. And I am honored that the Southern Water Tribe has accepted our partnership,"

She was silent, which started to unnerve him.

"You are not the man I think you to be," she said solemnly.

His good eyebrow lifted in surprise. As formally as she spoke, her speech was direct and unapologetic.

"Is that a good thing?"

They looked at one another, both of their stares unwavering.

"Maybe," she stated simply.

She hid a small smile, before bidding farewell and walking away. He stood there a few moments, still processing their intimate albeit short talk. When he moved to return to the village, he realized that his cunning bride-to-be had frozen his boots over, encasing them in ice and melding them to the snow.

Maybe, his uncle had been right.

The following days continued much in the same manner as before. His uncle and he were treated as strangers, only to observe.

However, on one such early morning, the monotony was broken when they were invited to participate in a seal hunt. It was fascinating to be apart of such an invigorating experience. The hunters, surprisingly a mix of both men and women, worked in practiced synchronization as they caught two large tiger seals, and a lone Arctic seal.

Although he and his uncle were not much help, Zuko was able to subdue the one female tiger seal, mammoth and terrifying as she fought for her escape. Without thinking, he'd defensively drawn fire in his palms, blasting a warning jet in her direction. There was a hushed silence as the tribal members watched him cautiously. But then, Sokka had clubbed the seal, breaking the silence and clamped his hand on Zuko's shoulder in thanks. He had done well.

Some of the tribal members, mostly the hunters, seemed to regard him with a hint of respect in their eyes. But the others, who may have overheard of his wielding fire, distanced themselves more, if possible. He understood. They'd forgotten his heritage, where he came from, and why he was there.

The ceremony, if you could call it that, was held in the Southern Water Tribe tradition. It was a small, private gathering of the bride and groom's families and a third-party council elder who presided over the nuptials. The real festivities were reserved for the celebratory feast and dance after the ceremony.

It was held outside, in the late morning when the sun had just begin to shone. The light caught onto millions of crystals encased into the frozen tundra, and it was a sight that Zuko had learned to appreciate.

He'd been dressed in the ceremonial attire of the Water Tribe, even letting his hair be styled in their traditional wolf tail, although he did not have the shaved sides. It seemed kind of pointless since everyone wore their heavy woolen coats to keep warm. The seamstress who had prepared his clothing had told him, that the outfit wasn't really for the ceremony. It is for later, she'd simply said.

Even Katara was dressed in her similar coat, bundled away. But her hair was styled differently, her hair loops gone. The upper half of her hair was braided and beaded intricately while the rest cascaded over her shoulders. She seemed ready, more than he did; so he relied on that borrowed courage. He was doing good for everyone else, but he would do even better for her.

After the brief nuptials, there was no kiss. They simply held gloved hands together and that was it. They were married.

The evening festivities were unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Bonfires spotted the common area and the seal meat that the hunters had caught was shared, cooked fresh in various ways. The mood reflected merriment and joy, much to his surprise. The Water Tribe members suddenly seemed to embrace him, hugging him and congratulating him. There was drink, a deep red wine, concocted from fermented summer berries, and plenty of it. But the most amazing part of the night was witnessing the dance ceremony, which was both exhilarating and strange. Each dance seemed to tell a story and though he was invited many times, he refused, instead sitting in the outer edges seeking out his new wife.

She was dancing with many of the other women, her face bright. She seemed happy.

Despite their recent nuptials, he found that it was impossible to find a private moment with her. He looked after her, itching for a chance to talk to her, maybe to just be near her.

"Do not worry, my nephew,"

Zuko rolled his eyes at the slurred words of his uncle.

"You will have plenty of time to make bedroom eyes later tonight," he laughed, taking another drink from his cup.

"Uncle-"

His uncle was suddenly leaning closely, whispering into his ear.

"Don't say I didn't warn you about Water Tribe women,"

He laughed again, even louder, then headed towards a gathered group of elderly men, dancing with each step.

Agni, help him.

But of course, his uncle was right.

On the outskirts of the village, there sat a large igloo, that he had never seen before. Some of the friendlier men, including his now brother-in-law, escorted him. They were obnoxiously drunk as they pushed at each, laughing wildly and cursing at each other in their native language. Several of them swatted at his behind, inappropriate, but a sign of camaraderie, he was sure.

As soon as they had taken him there, they left, without instruction.

But the entrance was clear, so he got to his hands and knees, crawling into the narrow archway.

The inside was much larger than he'd expected. It was also much warmer than he thought, the ice walls providing insulation from the outside. Several oil lanterns, fueled by seal blubber, surrounded the walls of the room, adding more warmth and minimal light.

He saw the edges of what must be a large frozen block of ice, swaddled in animal skins and woven blankets. He stepped closer and jumped when he finally noticed his now wife perched on the darkest corner, wrapped in a thick fur blanket. Although her face was not entirely lit, the inviting grin on her lips was unmistakable.

She was turned more towards him now, the blanket slipping from her shoulders and falling open to reveal her legs, carelessly thrown apart. It was almost masculine, the way she sat, aside from her leaning back on her arms. He couldn't help but to stare at the dark space there, hidden in shadows, because despite their marriage, no woman sat like that in front of her husband. It was so inappropriate, so vulgar, but perhaps not in the Water Tribe nation. When he glanced at her face, she was watching his amusedly. He sputtered a fake cough, abruptly looking at anything else but her.

She laughed at his obvious embarrassment. He remained quiet, a slow heat crawling up his cheeks.

The rustle and thud of her blanket drew his attention.

She was standing now, her clay-colored skin on prominent display, save for a beaded loincloth and numerous beaded necklaces dipping low, modestly covering her chest. Her arms were striped with indigo colored paint with various symbols marking other parts of her body.

The heat that grew in him was completely different now, it was a burning ache that travelled from his chest to his lower belly and then crept even further down.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful, his eyes tracking the swell of her hips and breasts.

And yet, despite the yearning that was building in him, he couldn't help to think that this was wrong. He'd only met her a fortnight ago, in which they had barely spoken, rarely even seen one another. She was a stranger to him and the only connection he felt was a raw attraction that was merely physical.

"You do not speak too much, husband…" she began, her voice lilting in an unidentifiable tone, "but that will serve you well tonight…"

She approached him then, slowly, her full hips swaying hypnotically with each step.

"Kata-Katara... we don't have to do this,"

She paused momentarily, her keen blue eyes piercing his own.

"This is the first time you have called me by my given name, Zuko,"

His name fell from her lips exotically, as she punctuated each letter. She was slowly circling him now, that same predatory gleam in her eyes. She stopped in front of him, her face turning to the side as she studied his features. His cheeks grew hot knowing that her eyes were focused in on the scar that spanned the left side of his face all the way to his ear. His gaze fell past her, avoiding her eyes. Abruptly she grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her as she looked at him.

"You are ashamed of this," she stated, more than questioned.

He remained silent, unsure how to respond to such a direct comment on something almost sacred to him. But the grip on his chin did not lessen.

Finally after what seemed an eternity he replied, "In my country, this is a mark of shame."

He pulled away from her forceful touch. It was too intimate, too soon.

But then she brought her hand up, softly following the creases of his scar. She was gentle, but the nerves underneath were also long dead and yet, it brought a sense of comfort. For no one, had touched him there like that ever since it had been put there.

"It is a warrior's badge. In our lands, this is something of pride,"

She stepped away, still examining him thoughtfully.

"You will learn our Tribe's ways, Zuko. And you will learn to live by them,"

The stubbornness in him wanted to fight her words. But they were not words of warning, they were of acceptance.

"Thank-"

"Take off your clothes."

He started to back away, startled by her sudden demand. But she seemed unmoved by his change in demeanor.

"Katara, we don't-"

"You will learn many things tonight, husband. And the first is, that I do not like to repeat myself,"

She stood straight, her arms folded across her heaving bosom.

As confused as he was, he reluctantly began to free the toggles on the front of his coat, a gift from the High Chieftain. This must be the way of their consummation, he thought. He wasn't expecting the most romantic of evenings, far from it, but something seemed off kilter about the way it was going.

Underneath, he was still dressed in his ceremonial wedding dress; a white tunic made of some tanned animal hide with thick leather stitching. It hung slightly above his knees. And underneath he wore blue leggings, thinly insulated with animal fur.

"The rest of it," she demanded.

He grit his teeth in frustration, but he complied. As he slid off the tunic, he noted her appreciative stare which seemed to encourage him. His pants and boots quickly followed until he remained in nothing but an intricately folded loincloth.

"There, are you happy?"

She walked back to the bed, sitting on the edge, once again with her legs salaciously spread apart.

"Are all Fire Nation men as delicate as yourself?"

If it weren't for the smirk on her face, Zuko would have thought she was being serious.

"Okay, look, this is fun and all, but what in Agni's name kind of game are you playing?"

Her smile broadened.

"Since you are not Water Tribe born, I will explain to you this-I am sure that you have noticed that in our tribe, women are not treated like they are anywhere else in the world,"

This he knew perfectly well, thanks to his uncle's fair warnings and the few remaining scholars in the Royal Palace that had prepped him. The Southern Water Tribe, specifically, was a very much a matriarchal society. Despite the High Chieftain being male, almost every other decision was made by an Elder Council of women. On top of that, the Water Tribes prayed to a goddess, an apparent Moon Spirit. Fertility was revered as the life source, the beginning of everything, and all else was secondary. He could understand the mindset, it wasn't completely crazy. But what he knew only scratched the surface of their customs and traditions.

She continued, "It is more than equality amongst the men and women. You will come to learn more of our people soon enough. But you must understand that on our wedding night, it is about you pleasing me. And I will tell you how to please me. If you are obedient, then we will have real fun. And if you disobey my demands, you will be punished,"

He became serious then; and curious as to what exactly her words meant.

"Punished? How? Will I be imprisoned?"

"I will punish you, of course,"

His eyes narrowed in skepticism. She didn't like that look.

"Come here,"

With a petulant sigh, he started to take a step.

"On hands and knees," she added.

Zuko scoffed. This apparent wedding night was turning into something beyond his comprehension.

She rose from her place on the bed and with a slight tilt of her head, he suddenly felt his knees give in, collapsing in on himself. His heartbeat quickened, seemingly pounding in his ears. And as much as he tried to move, he was stationed there on the ground in the exact position she'd wanted. She was bloodbending. He felt the release, and it flooded the feeling back into his limbs, his heartbeat slowing back down. He breathed heavily, savoring the air as it filled his lungs.

"My husband, I can make this night as pleasurable or as painful as you like. But I will, have my way,"

She smiled coyly, as misleading as it was, playing with the beads on one of her necklaces.

"Do not even think of firebending. For then you will truly receive punishment and that will be at the disposal of the elder council," she said threateningly. "Now, come here,"

Hesitating slightly, he began to crawl towards her, still feeling light headed from having his blood bent. He crawled until he reached her bare feet, also decorated in blue paint. He sat up on his knees, looking up at her.

"Did I say you could get up?" She bit out, and she yanked his head by the long black hair which had been tied into the traditional tribal wolf tail. It wasn't exactly painful, as much as it was humiliating.

He leaned back, trying to pull away from her grasp. But before he knew it, she'd slapped him in the face; the good side.

He hissed at the surprising jolt to his face. But she remained unfazed.

"This is your second punishment, already. I think you may need a third. Now, stand here," she said, pointing to the bottom of the bed.

Still in shock, he did so compliantly.

She walked to a wooden chest, bending down to open it. When her loincloth lifted up, he turned away at the flagrant display. She returned with a neat pile of leather rope in her hands. With her free hand, she roughly grabbed his left hip. He shifted at her sudden touch; cool hands against his heated skin. But when she pressed herself against him, slowly rolling her hips into his groin, he gasped gruffly and couldn't help reciprocating a friction of his own. She smiled, pleased by his reaction and brought her lips to the shell of his ruined ear.

"Turn around,"

He obliged, spurred by the ache coiling in his gut and the unrelenting hardness in his loins.

As he waited with bated breath, he startled at the sound of bones breaking and cracking only to realize that Katara was bending ice and snow into two posts at the foot of the bed. They were solid and unbreakable. Once that was done, she took her time, running her hand from the ball of his shoulder to the tips of his fingers and bracing his left hand against one of the posts.

"Now, I am going to tie you here. You will remain until you have received your punishment,"

He tried to push away, but she seemed prepared because she then reached around his front, brazenly grabbing his already half-hard member. Zuko bucked at the feel of her hand so roughly holding him there. She cupped her hand over the front, sliding up and down, just enough for him to lose himself for a bit.

"If you are obedient, you will enjoy this as much as I will, I promise you that,"

He grunted as her hand continued to work him and she groaned softly, temptingly into his ear. He couldn't help but to nod in agreement, eager to see what else she had planned for him. By the time she was finished, each of his wrists had been secured to their individual posts and then frosted over to ensure their stability; his legs spread apart to balance the distance of the bed.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Without the use of his hands, much less his firebending, Zuko suddenly felt the impact of his vulnerability. The dizzying effect of her touch was now gone, his erection starting to fall.

Suddenly, she was there again, pressing her beaded breasts against his back and her hands roaming freely across the planes of his chest. His abs clenched at the way she trailed her fingers further and further down. In one swift motion, his loincloth was removed and he was completely bare. Her nails traced the dark hairs surrounding his length, almost playfully. As she peered over his shoulder, he could feel it stiffen once again, aching to be touched.

"I see that Fire Nation born are also bred big and strong," she said with a teasing giggle. "Not as delicate as I thought,"

He whistled through his teeth when her hands slid over his balls, cupping them softly.

"Please," he whispered, desperate for more.

"Not yet, my husband. You have not received punishment," her voice dropping low.

Katara pulled her hands away much to his dismay, but her chin still rested on his shoulder.

"I'm going to punish you now. I want you big and hard when I am ready. If you lose your hardness, I will keep punishing you. The longer you are patient, the sooner your punishment will be over,"

He shuddered at her words, unsure of what this so-called punishment entailed.

She was several paces behind him now he was sure. His head hung forward, tired from the anticipation. And then, he heard the fluid movement of water, alerting him back to his senses. Before he could even try to look at her, he felt two cool slicks of water, traveling up each of his ankles, his calves, and even slower up his thighs. The sensation was both alarming and thrilling. She was waterbending in the most seductive way possible, now controlling her element up his buttocks and conjoining the two streams at the base of his spine.

He craned his neck over his shoulder as much as could, just in time to see her rearing back with a single water whip and lashing at his ass.

"Ugh!"

He grunted at the force, his entire body bowing forward against his restraints. It stung, but not nearly as much as he had expected.

"Count for me," she commanded.

She paused, allowing him reprieve and obviously waiting for his reaction. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the challenging glint in her eyes. There was a wildness to them, her normally sapphire eyes now stormier, darker.

"One," he answered, his tone dark.

He counted nine more strikes against his ass, some grazing the tops of his hamstrings.

Zuko did not yell once. Instead, he'd grunt and groan at the force of the blows and found himself amazingly turned on. She did not hit to maim him, only to elicit shock to his senses, a stark contrast to her earlier ministrations.

Sweat rimmed his brow as he'd been straining against the ties and trying to keep his stance steady.

He flinched when he felt her presence directly behind him. He felt the cool water that had once been tools of punishment now swathing his back. He felt her fingers penetrate the water and touch his skin and he realized that she was healing him as the tension eased in his back muscles. Her hands slid further down, instantly alleviating the tender skin of his rear.

Zuko moaned at the feel of relief seeping deep into his muscles in such an intimate area. The water was gone, her bare hands touching him. He felt the fabric of her loincloth pressed against him as she ground against him.

"I see that you like this more than I thought," she commented, sliding a single finger across the top of his rigid shaft, from head to base.

"Oh, Katara," he whispered her name breathlessly and pleadingly.

"I am very pleased," she said, popping the lobe of his ear into her mouth and releasing it just as quickly.

He bit his lip, wanting to burn through his leather ties and ravish her right then and there. Instead, he complied, nodding.

"You are a fast learner and being so obedient. I think I will give you one reward,"

He reared his head up excitedly, a hunger churning low in his gut.

"Please, anything,"

"You may kiss me," she said with a shrug. "Anywhere, but here," she added, crossing her hands over the front of her loincloth.

He nodded eagerly. He knew exactly where he wanted to taste her.

"Your breasts," he demanded, his voice gruff with want.

"Ah, but you may only have one," she supplied.

Displeased, but still in dire need, he agreed. Katara shifted onto the bed until she sat on her knees, smiling at him. She grabbed the necklaces in one fat stack, before stripping it off and revealing her ample chest to him. She sat up, tenderly stroking her hands across her neck while he watched, his jaw slacked. Her breasts hung heavy and moved each time she inhaled deeply, sighing in little pleasurable mewls. While she kept teasing her skin with her left hand, she brought her right out in the tight space between them. Water began to collect in her palm, the size of a small pearl, just as iridescent and just as beautiful. Then, just as her hand moved, the little bead of water followed, falling onto her chest, rolling past her collarbones. Zuko watched in awe as it came to circle the aureola of her left breast, the skin raising from the sensation, and her dark nipples hardening. Her head fell back at the same time as she moaned so seductively. It was quite possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. She mimicked the action on her right breast, again letting out a pleased sigh but this time she watched him with hooded eyes as she did so.

His mouth watered as she sat up, bringing her chest to his face. Her nipples were so dark, so erect and wet. He edged his knees close to the bed and lowered his mouth on her left nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, keeping it in his mouth and suctioned it over and over. His ministrations were rough, he knew, but he was feeling so sexually deprived and who knew when he could feel her next.

Katara moaned louder than he expected, pressing her chest further into him. Her hand dug into the back of his hair, wanting more. With her free hand she was playing with her right nipple, he could see it, tugging and twisting and even grabbing the ignored breast. He lapped at the one in his mouth and carefully lathed a wet trail across her breastbone. She stopped, looking down at him, but her eyes were too clouded with lust. She pressed her breasts together as invitation, as he continued to moisten the skin in between. He quickly enveloped the other one, giving it equal attention. As he did so, her body began to rock forward as her thighs kept squeezing together. His own cock stirred even more, straining with the need for that same friction.

"Enough,"

She pulled away abruptly to his immediate disappointment.

He licked his lips involuntarily, but he noticed the way her eyes tracked his mouth.

"Will you punish me again?"

"A different kind of punishment. It will not be as painful, but much more difficult," she warned.

Rolling the tension away in his neck, he stood back, preparing.

Continuing to use her waterbending, she unfroze his bindings from the ice posts, freeing him. He rubbed at the ties where they had chafed his wrists but otherwise did not move.

"Husband, will you touch yourself for me?" She asked, laying back into the bed.

"I thought I was being punished..." he said, confused by her request.

"I can do it for you,"

She shrugged, but suddenly he felt that similar pull from earlier. But instead of a buzzing in his head, he felt the instant rush of blood to the head of his dick. It throbbed, almost burned, causing him to drop to his knees and cry out. Then it stopped. But his member was still effected, thick veins protruding along the sides.

"Or you can do as I say," she warned.

He glared at her, seething at her ability to control him. But he was so turned on that he had no fight in him.

Standing back up, he stared at her defiantly as he slowly licked the inside of his palm. She smiled but her eyes were heated as she lay back more comfortably into the bed. He encircled the fat tip of his dick, rotating his hand to arouse his most sensitive part. He groaned deep in his throat, partly because of the sensation but mostly because Katara was watching. She was watching and she dragging her nails up her parted thighs, her short loincloth starting to show her dampened curls underneath.

Zuko slid his hand down, now starting to pump in a familiar rhythm that he knew very well. He twisted at the right angles and squeezed at the base just like he knew how he liked it. It was reckless, but his new bride was very good at making him feel this way. When he offered her a glance, her ankles were twisted and her thighs rubbing against each other. She was trying to be patient, but it was obvious that she liked what she saw. He grunted as precum flooded the head of his dick. He used the added lubrication to keep gliding up and down his rigid cock. He was extremely close to bursting at the seams.

"Stop!" She yelled.

It achieved the shock in him that he suspected she wanted, because he froze in his tracks instead clenching his dick at the base.

"Remove your hand," she said with a smirk.

Gritting his teeth with anger, he did so.

"You are treading dangerous waters, my bride,"

His voice was hoarse from panting, but it was also dark with unfulfilled lust.

She ignored him, climbing off the bed and standing behind him. She grabbed the loose leather rope still wrapped around his wrists and tied them tightly behind his back. He struggled, but only barely.

"Do not forget, husband, you are still being punished,"

She sat back on the bed, allowing her ankles to graze the edge as she laid back. She began to untie her loincloth, tossing it to the side and completely bare to him; only he could not touch her. She was just enough out of reach that all he could do was feel her feet brushing against his knees and the tops of his shins.

Her burnt crimson hair was splayed out like wildfire and for a moment he had to consider that she could fit in as Fire Nation born. She bit down on her plump bottom lip, adding fuel to the fire in his blood. He craved to be free of his restraints so he could do so many other things than just tasting her supple breasts and putting on a show for her. It was all a tease, just as she was teasing him now. Her legs fell apart, showcasing her already wet folds glistening in the dim firelight in the room. She watched him then, with heavy lidded eyes as she slowly crept her fingers down the length of her body, stopping at the apex of her thighs.

"Do you like what you see?" She sighed. "I will show you how I like to please myself so you can learn," she giggled.

Zuko's wrists shook at the tension of his leather bindings, as she began to stroke herself. Her movements were languid and easy, her legs sliding further apart. He grunted against his manifolds as her feet drew away from him, leaving him with nothing to touch. He could only watch as she worked herself in such intimate familiarity.

"Oh, Zuko…" she groaned, pressing into the sensitive cleft and rolling her fingers. "This... is how... I want you... to... pl-please me... oh!"

He growled, a low guttural sound escaping his throat. But he dropped his head in defeat. He glanced at his own unattended sex, rock hard and still dripping with precum.

"Look at me. Look at me, Zuko!" She whined.

And so he did. He watched her start to thrust her hips upward, meeting the rhythm of her deft fingers. Her toes curled tightly and her legs stiffened as she neared her climax. He realized he was flexing his hips in sync with hers, imagining it was him in between her salacious thighs.

Before he knew it, she was cumming, her voice keening loudly and satisfyingly. He groaned loudly at the sight of her unraveling, cumming shortly after and bucking wildly as jets of his seed shot onto the bed, some of it on her legs.

Spent from his long-awaited release, his body sagged slightly.

She sat up lazily, but smirking with a dangerous hint to her lips.

"I did not say you could finish, my dear husband,"

Hell was real, and he was living in it.

"What will you have me do?"

She crawled towards him, her full breasts swaying with the movement. His want for her instantly returned because despite his sudden reprieve, he had yet to have her the way he truly wanted.

"Well, first, I would like to taste you,"

He tensed immediately, his dick already at full attention at her words.

She touched his stain on the blanket and swiped it across her mouth, then pushed a single finger past her lips.

"Mmm…" she murmured with satisfaction.

The disappointment was evident in his eyes.

"Oh, did you think I wanted to taste you here?" She asked, gesturing to his growing erection.

He was quiet, only wetting his lips in response.

"I'm going to untie you. I want you to lay in bed. My only condition is that you cannot touch me."

It was clear that he was disgruntled by this additional rule, but he reluctantly agreed.

He lay in bed, his limbs aching from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long. Thinking he could finally relax, he let himself sink into the thick woven blankets. Katara picked up her loincloth from the floor and sat beside him. She stroked his face tenderly, like a wife should, completely disregarding her obvious dominant nature in the bedroom.

"Now, we will make love," she whispered, now cupping the marred side of his face.

He sighed greatly in relief.

She coaxed him to sit up, tangling her fingers into his as she sat behind him. Her touch was entrancing as she skated them across the muscles in his back. It was enough to remind him that while he might not exactly love her, he was more than willing to make love to her. She brought her loincloth to his face, the beads gently swatting his cheek.

"Do you smell my desire, husband?"

He inhaled deeply, spurring his continual growing want to not only smell her, but to taste her and most of all, feel her.

The loincloth was brought up to his eyes and he felt her lacing the beaded fringe together. Not only could he not touch her, but he would be blind as well.

"Please, Katara," he groaned.

"This is your last punishment," she said, her voice soft and lulling. "While you may not see or touch me, I will do everything and anything that I want,"

He trembled slightly at her words. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to feel.

Still sitting up, he felt around, unsure what to do. Katara hissed under her breath and grabbed him by the wrists. She placed them onto the blanket, somewhere behind him allowing him to lean back. He felt the blankets shifting under her weight as she moved about and suddenly, his lap was enveloped by soft, warm thighs. She was straddling him, completely bare with her voluptuous curves pressing against him, everywhere.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

Katara began to rock against him in an unhurried rhythm. Her palms held onto his shoulders to steady herself as her wet core began a tantalizing dance across his rock hard member. He grunted at her motions, his hips thrusting upward by their own volition. She murmured in her own ancient language, what she was saying he wasn't sure but the way she said them was enough. She was losing her own self-control and delving deeply into the same feelings as he was. He was already far beyond that.

She pulled away from him but used her hands to push him back into the bed, forcing him to lay back. He relaxed once again, giving her the trust that he didn't think he had to give. Then suddenly, she was there again trapping his hips with her own, rubbing her apparent desire against his. He thrust again, seeking more. Her hands began to dance across the planes of his chest, his abs, and finally settling into the grooves of his hip bones. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood, as he fought the urge to flip her over and take her completely right then and there. She slid down the space between his legs as her fingers crept further down, teasingly tracing the length of his engorged dick, so sensitive with anticipation. He flexed the muscle that made it twitch, wanting to feel more than her playful touches.

His wishes were finally granted. Her warm palm surrounded his entire length, squeezing slightly and sliding in an up and down motion. Zuko grunted as she began to jerk him off in a steady motion.

"Oh, Spirits! Oh, fuck!" He yelled, almost choking on his own spit.

She continued her treacherous movements, occasionally stopping to rub her thumb over the swollen head of his dick. He could feel so much precum there, that she used to continue her ministrations.

"Ugh… Katara, please," he begged.

"Please what?" She asked innocently.

She stopped, still holding him in her hands.

He hesitated, unsure of what she was asking.

"What do you want me to do, husband?" She purred.

Despite the vulnerability he felt, he couldn't help but smile.

"I want to feel your mouth on me. And when you're done, I want to see how wet you get from sucking me off. Then I'll taste you and make you scream my name. And when that's done with, I want to fuck you so hard that you'll never want to tease me-"

His words turned into a struggled moan as he felt the entire length of his dick penetrate her sweet, wet core. It was so wet, yet still so tight, it almost hurt. She writhed in his lap as she tried to accommodate to his size. She whined and panted as she nuzzled into his neck. And he felt the loincloth pulled away from his face.

His bride's deep blue eyes stared into his, lustfully. She looked lost.

"Touch me," she demanded.

And it seemed to be her last demand as she melted into his body. He braced his weight against the bed and turned them over in one swift move. Although he was still inside of her, he slid out all the same, pressing hungry kisses in as many places as he could. His desire for had become raw and eager, but he stilled at the glassiness of her eyes and the furious blush of her brown skin. Much of the blue paint on her skin was gone, some of it on him. It dawned on him how beautiful she was and that she belonged to him, as he did to her. She bit her bottom lip at his frozen state, suddenly shy at his attentive stare. He dropped onto his elbows around her head and sought after those plump lips. The sounds she made as he probed her mouth with his own made him respond in kind. He growled as he tasted her, his tongue seeking every bit of hers like she was a precious fruit. Zuko's hips ground into her own, his erection thick and wanting against the softness of her thigh.

"Take me, Zuko," she pleaded, breaking the kiss.

He needed no further invitation, and brought a hand to his dick, guiding it to her wet entrance. She tensed as he held just his tip there, barely spreading the folds.

"Please!" She cried, her head tossing against the bed.

Zuko took no precaution as he slammed his throbbing cock into her. She pitched a low scream, her arms snaking across his back and locking them there. He slid into her so easily, despite how tight she was. He pulled out immediately, only to thrust back in just as quickly and repeated. He pushed so hard into her they were slowly sliding up the bed and she kept in pace, lifting her hips to meet his own.

But she'd held enough power over him tonight. It was his turn. Zuko stopped and pulled out. She looked up at him questioningly, but before she could say anything, he turned her onto her side. He lifted her left thigh and fit himself back in, before pumping into her furiously at a different angle. Her arms flung wide as she gripped onto the blanket, panting and crying out at his every thrust. Save for their vocal utterances, the only sound in that room was the sound of skin slapping skin as he continued his jarring movements into her. He was so close, but he wanted her to come undone as much as he needed it for himself. He flipped her over completely, until she was on her hands and knees. He would laugh at the irony, if his mind wasn't so hazed over at needing his fill of her.

While sliding his hands over her full ass, he rubbed the head of his dick against the cleft of her wet folds. He needed the quick break to regain his stamina and his patience. She gyrated her hips towards him, welcoming him back. He palmed the top of her ass with his left and with his free hand, he slapped her right cheek, enjoying the way it bounced with the movement.

She moaned loudly and appreciatively, so he did it again and again, until it was red with his abuse. When he'd finished, he rubbed the area tenderly. She never complained. He rewarded her, by sliding his dick into her solidly and moving his hand to her front. He began pounding into her, building a rhythm as his fingers tended to her swollen clit. Their movements became animalistic, both of them sweating from their efforts. Each time he flicked his finger over the right spot, she'd keen loudly and her entire body would shudder. He took advantage of that, pressing into it and burying himself deep from behind at the same moment.

"Oh, Zuko… don't stop, don't stop," she panted wantonly.

He couldn't hold back any longer, but it was she who spilled over first, cumming so thoroughly that she had to pull his hand away from her sudden sensitiveness there, even as she continued crying out his name repeatedly, like a mantra. He continued to rut into her, enjoying the view of seeing his dick, red and angry, enveloped by the feminine curves of her rear. But he'd had enough and finally, finally, he came so fiercely that he had to hug her entire body for purchase as his body bucked into her.

He was so spent, he collapsed next to her, pulling her into him. His right arm held the weight of her head as his left drifted over her arm.

She giggled as he nuzzled her neck, finding comfort there.

"Maybe, I should tease you first, before every time we make love," she said, still laughing.

As tired as he was, he smiled at her flirtation.

"Maybe you should," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. He dropped his free hand from her arm, cascading down her body until he found her sex, still wet. As he gently thrummed his finger against her still sensitive clit, he whispered again, "And maybe you shouldn't."

From his fingers alone, he brought her to climax again before they fell asleep in each others arms like familiar lovers.