Zutara Month Day 16: Pirates
Slightly lemony ficlet, mostly implied M under the cut.
The ropes are tight across his chest, digging into his thin tunic and the flesh beneath in a way that Zuko imagines will leave marks when they are removed. The thought leaves a tingling sensation in his limbs.
His legs are bound as well, his arms forced to his sides, and the rough bark of the tree to which he is tied carves into his backside, the sensation dueling with that of the ropes. He can move only a little, but the result is merely scraping his skin on the bark and the ropes, so he avoids doing that.
He feels a presence behind him that is not just the tree to which he is bound, but someone standing there, hot breath on his neck. A thin, delicate hand is dragged across his throat, soft fingers dipping down towards his collar.
He's startled by the movement but forces himself not to react. He can't move his head to see behind him and the person is standing on his left side, where his peripheral vision is all but lost.
"You okay, love?" Katara asks as she smoothes her hand over his exposed throat, cups his chin.
"Yes," he says. He's practically trembling but exerts most of his energy into not showing it, but he can't help but slip as Katara caresses him, can't help let the need show in his voice.
Katara is gracious, though, and rewards him with fingers carding through his hair, playing idly with the long strands, pulling them down around his face. It feels good.
She returns her attention to his throat soon enough.
"I think you need something around that pretty neck," she says.
Zuko squirms against the ropes. He can't help it. He'll definitely have scratches tomorrow, he thinks, as the ropes and the bark of the tree scrape against his skin. It's sort of like attending to an itch, though, the pain giving him a wave of pleasure as he is aware of Katara behind him, her body nearly pressed against him.
"You know what this is," she says, holding the indigo-died leather strap up to his neck, the stone hanging there engraved with curious swirls and patterns that catch the light as she dangles it in front of him.
He knows what it is. It's just like the one she wears around her neck, except the wave-like patterns in the stone meld into flames at the crest, and the blue used is not exactly Water Tribe blue but something that looks more at home next to crimson.
"Of course you know. I made it for you, and it means you belong to me."
Zuko swallows, feeling the lump in his throat where Katara's hands had touched him, where she holds the necklace in front of him.
"Do you want it?"
"Yes, please."
"Good. Such a good boy." Katara's fingers move to his hair again, sweeping it over one shoulder and baring the back of his neck, brushing her fingers over the exposed skin in a way that makes him shiver again.
"Don't worry," she coos, one hand holding up his hair while the other encircles the leather strap about his neck. She lays down his hair and uses both hands to tie the strap in place at the back. Zuko feels the weight of the stone in the hollow of his throat, can feel it bob when he swallows.
Don't worry, my sweet," she says again, her voice syrupy and warm as her hands move over his shoulders and dip again into the collar of the front of his tunic. The hands play with his collar a bit before leaving it, moving down over his bound chest, caressing his straining muscles. Her hands move downwards further until they find the firm curve of his hips, the hardness between his legs, and she cups it in her palm, a reminder that he is hers, body and soul, and he feels totally consumed. She whispers in his ear. "I'll save you from the pirates."
