The Nanny's Intrusive Heat pt.2
pairing. older! Zuko x nanny! fem! reader
warnings. ⚠️ MDNI 18+, blowjobs, praise/dirty talk, power dynamics, slow burn, age gap, SMUT, creampie
an. FINALLY. pt 2 is here. Wrote this while ignoring adult responsibilities, so if the pacing feels like a manic episode, now you know why. please drink some water, look away from the screen for five seconds, and remember that Zuko is a fictional dilf who cannot actually save you from your student loans.
enjoy! xx
P1 | P2 (you are here) | P3
The grandfather clock in the corridor of the penthouse chimed nine times, the deep, resonant notes melting into the quiet hum of the central air conditioning. By the time the final echo faded, the frantic energy of the afternoon had thoroughly wound down.
Izumi’s bedroom was cast in a soft, lavender glow from a nightlight shaped like a dragon, the room smelling faintly of baby powder and the chamomile lotion you had smoothed over her shoulders after her bath.
She had spent the last hour of her waking day meticulously coloring outside the lines of a drawing book, recounting the elaborate plots of her kindergarten playground with a fierce, dramatic earnestness that made it impossible not to smile.
You had sat on the edge of her small mattress, stroke by stroke brushing her thick, dark hair away from her face until her eyelids grew heavy and her breathing settled. You tucked the heavy duvet up to her chin, pressed a gentle, sisterly kiss to her forehead, and slipped out of the room, closing the door until only a thin sliver of light remained.
The sprawling living room was a battlefield of a five-year-old’s imagination. Crayon stubs, scattered worksheets from her preparatory reading homework, and a pair of discarded plastic sandals littered the polished basalt floor. You moved through the space like a quiet, domestic phantom, your bare feet making no sound against the stone as you began to restore the pristine, minimalist order that Mai so fiercely demanded. You bent down, gathering the colorful papers into a neat stack, your loose cotton shorts riding up the smooth expanse of your thighs with every micro-movement.
You had completely forgotten that Mai wasn't even in the state. She had mentioned something three days ago about an intellectual property seminar in the Upper Ring—a business trip that Zuko had clearly not bothered to register or remember, his mind entirely consumed by the volatile mechanics of his corporate holdings.
Zuko was sitting at the edge of the kitchen island, his tie completely discarded now, the first three buttons of his white dress shirt undone to expose the hard, tanned column of his throat and the faint edge of the muscle beneath. He had been watching you clean for the last twenty minutes, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, his amber eyes dark and heavy with an intense focus that made the skin of your back prickle with a sudden heat. The corporate titan looked thoroughly unbuttoned, the harsh, unforgiving light of the kitchen casting long, predatory shadows across the sharp planes of his face and the jagged edge of his burn scar.
"Leave the rest of the crayons," Zuko’s voice suddenly broke the silence, a deep, gravelly baritone that sounded entirely too loud in the empty apartment. He stood up from the barstool, his movements carrying a heavy, deliberate slowness as he reached for an opened bottle of a deep, blood-red Pinot Noir sitting on the counter. "You've been on your feet since three o'clock. Come have a glass of wine with me."
You straightened up, clutching the stack of drawings to your chest, your wide, pretty eyes blinking at him through a fringe of eyelashes with a masterful imitation of surprise. "Oh, I really shouldn't... I'm still technically on the clock until Mai gets back, or until my shift ends."
"Mai isn't coming back until Sunday," Zuko murmured, a subtle, almost imperceptible hardness cutting through his tone as he poured the dark liquid into two large crystal chalices. He walked around the island, stepping directly into your path, the rich, bitter scent of the wine mixing instantly with the intoxicating wake of your vanilla oil. He extended one of the glasses toward you, his large fingers deliberately brushing against yours as you took the stem, the brief contact sending a sudden, electric static straight up your arm. "And as your employer, I'm officially telling you to clock out. Sit."
The invitation carried the weight of a command, but the softness in his eyes made it feel like a shared conspiracy. You followed him over to the massive, low-profile velvet sofa that faced the darkened terrace windows, sinking into the plush fabric with a soft sigh. You curled your legs up beneath you, the hem of your thin cotton shorts pulling tight across the curve of your hips.
Zuko sat on the opposite end of the couch, his long legs stretched out, his body angled entirely toward you as he took a slow, measured sip of his wine. The distance between you was initially respectable—a wide, formal cushion of velvet acting as a boundary—but the atmosphere in the room was rapidly thickening, the air-conditioned breeze doing nothing to cool the simmering heat that seemed to radiate from his frame.
"How are your studies going?" he asked, his voice dropping into a softer, more conversational register that you had never heard him use in the presence of his wife. He rested his arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers merely inches from the crown of your head. "Early childhood development, right? Izumi told me you helped her memorize her entire reading chart today."
"She's incredibly smart, Zuko," you murmured, using his first name for the very first time, the word slipping past your lips like a velvet secret. You swirled the wine in your glass, keeping your eyes fixed on the dark red liquid to hide the slow, wicked smirk that was trying to pull at your mouth. "She takes after her father. And my classes are going well. It's a lot of work—case studies, late-night observations, and trying to balance my seminar schedule with the agency hours—but I want to finish school strong. I don't want to just pass; I want to be excellent."
Zuko stared at you, his amber eyes softening with an expression of intense, quiet admiration that made his chest heave slightly beneath his unbuttoned shirt. He was a man who valued discipline and ambition above all else, having fought through the meat-grinder of his father’s corporate empire to claim his position, and seeing that same fierce, quiet determination in a woman so young and devastatingly beautiful was intoxicating. "That’s... that’s incredible," he said softly, his voice thick with a sudden wave of vulnerability. "Most people your age are just looking for an easy ride. You have a purpose. I admire that about you."
The conversation stretched on, flowing into a rhythmic, effortless cadence that seemed to distort the very passage of time. One glass of wine turned into two, the dark Pinot Noir loosening the rigid knot in Zuko’s shoulders until he was leaning closer, the formal boundaries of his life systematically dissolving with every word you spoke. You talked about the city, he talked about the weight of his responsibilities at Fire Nation Global, and the quiet, isolating reality of living in a penthouse that felt more like a museum than a home.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Zuko asked suddenly, the question cutting through the low murmur of your voices with a sharp, heavy directness that made your heart skip a beat. His gaze was fixed entirely on your lips now, his fingers tightening around the stem of his glass.
You looked down, a soft, masterfully timed flush of pink staining your cheeks as you shifted your weight against the cushions. "No," you replied shyly, your voice dropping into a low whisper. "I don't really have the time for relationships right now. Between the university and taking care of Izumi, my schedule is completely full. I want to make sure my future is secure before I let anyone else into it."
"The men at your university must be completely blind," Zuko growled softly, a sudden, fierce flash of possessiveness flaring behind his amber eyes. He set his empty glass down on the low coffee table with a sharp, glass-on-stone clack that signaled the absolute end of his restraint.
The distance that had once existed between you on the velvet couch completely vanished. Before you could even blink, Zuko lunged forward with the sudden, explosive velocity of a predator that had spent months starved in a cage. His large, calloused hands shot out, wrapping securely around your waist, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh of your hips as he hauled your body directly across the cushion and into his lap.
You let out a soft, sharp gasp of surprise, your crystal glass slipping from your fingers and landing harmlessly against the plush rug as your thighs were forced wide apart, straddling his lap completely. The physical authority in his frame was immense; he was a broad, muscular man beneath his corporate tailoring, and the sheer heat of his body felt like a physical weight pressing against your core.
"Zuko..." you whispered, your hands coming up to press against his broad chest, your fingers tangling in the unbuttoned fabric of his shirt as you looked up into his scarred face.
"I can't do this anymore," he dirty-talked softly, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that brushed directly against your lips. His breath smelled of rich, bitter wine and heat. "I've spent four months watching you walk through my house. I've spent four months smelling your scent on my sheets and watching you laugh with my daughter while I'm locked in a dead marriage. I'm completely losing my mind."
He didn't wait for permission. Zuko leaned in, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss that began with a deceptive, trembling softness—a desperate, pleading contact that sought to taste the sweetness he had hungered for from afar. But the moment your lips parted for him, letting out a soft, breathy moan into his mouth, his discipline shattered into absolute dust. The kiss turned violently heated, his tongue diving deep into your mouth with a wild, unrefined dominance that claimed your palate like a conquered territory.
You rocked your hips against him in response, a low groan escaping the back of your throat as the thin cotton of your shorts rubbed ruthlessly against the prominent bulge straining violently against the heavy fabric of his tailored dress pants. He was rock hard— The heat of his erection was immense, pressing through the layers of his suit with a rigid authority that had your pussy instantly opening and closing in frantic, desperate spasms.
Zuko’s hands slid down to the lower curve of your buttocks, his large fingers gripping the fabric of your shorts, lifting your hips and slamming them down against his groin to increase the friction, a low, guttural grunt forced through his teeth as your wet heat met his hardness.
"God you're so soft," Zuko growled against your lips, his hands shaking slightly as he tore himself away from the kiss, his amber eyes wide and completely glazed over with a blinding layer of pure, forbidden lust. He looked down at the ruin of his own lap, his chest heaving violently. "Look at what you're doing to me. Look at how hard you make your boss."
Without a word, you slid smoothly out of his lap, your movements carrying a fluid, hypnotic grace that left him completely breathless as you dropped down onto your knees on the rug directly between his feet. You looked up at him through the dark fringe of your eyelashes, your pretty face a mask of total devotion as you reached forward, your manicured nails undoing the heavy silver buckle of his belt with a swift, efficient movement that had his lower abdomen contracting in a tight spasm.
You pulled his zipper down, your small, blood-warm hands sliding beneath the cotton of his undergarments to wrap around his length, pulling the monstrous, thick shaft free into the amber light of the room.
Zuko let out a sharp, choked gasp, his head slamming back against the velvet cushions of the sofa as his hands flying up to grip the back of his own neck, his body trembling violently. This was the first physical contact he had experienced with another woman other than Mai in over six years—the last time he had felt this kind of raw, unrestrained pleasure had been before his wife had become pregnant with Izumi, before their marriage had curdled into a cold, corporate arrangement. His cock was massive, the skin a deep, sun-darkened bronze, heavily veined and already weeping a thick, clear bead of pre-cum from the slit.
You didn't hesitate for a single second. You leaned your head in close, your warm breath brushing against the sensitive underside of his head, making his entire lower body give a violent, involuntary twitch against the leather padding of his briefs. Then, you opened your mouth wide, your tongue darting out to lick the dark pre-come from the crown, before sliding your lips over the broad, blunt head, taking him deep into your throat in a single, unyielding downward pull.
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
Zuko let out a groan of unadulterated ecstasy, his knuckles turning white as his hands flew down to bury themselves in your long hair, his fingers gripping your head with a brutal, territorial force that pinned your face flush against his groin.
If he hadn't known any better, he thought you were a virgin. But you were incredibly experienced, your throat opening completely to accept the invading force of his cock without a single hint of struggle. Your throat clamped down on his shaft like a suffocating vice, your tongue flattening out to lick the underside of his skin with every single downward stroke of your mouth.
You bobbed your head with a systematic, ruthless momentum, your nose burying into the dark wool of his trousers at the base of his groin. The friction of your wet lips were turning his pre-come into a thick, frothy lather around his base.
"You're so good," Zuko growled through the wet heat, his voice a layered, ruined vibration that shook his chest. One of his hands slid down to wrap around your chin, his fingers applying a firm, possessive pressure to control your pace. "Look at you... taking all of me... not even gagging. You're such a little slut for your boss, aren't you? Breathe through your nose, baby, because we're not stopping."
He didn't let up. Driven by the absolute, terrifying peak of his arousal, Zuko executed a few more thrusts, ramming the crown of his shaft directly against the back of your throat, completely stuffing your mouth to the brim.
Finally, Zuko completely let go, his grip on your hair tightening to a bruising intensity as his release erupted with an explosive, terrifying force.
You took his cum like an absolute saint, swallowing frantically as his thick, heavy, and burning streams of his long-starved seed pumped directly down your throat. The volume was immense, some of his cum bubbling and overflowing past your lips, running down your chin and dripping onto the collar of your silk blouse.
You swallowed every single drop you could, your eyes locking onto his amber orbs with a look of pure, unholy triumph as he lay back against the cushions, his breathing coming in short, ragged puffs, his entire body shaking with the aftershocks of the most violent climax of his life.
Once you popped off this cock, Zuko reached down, his hands hooking beneath your arms to lift your shaking body from the rug. He didn't say a word; his face was a mask of fierce, absolute possession. He gathered your body into his broad arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he stood up from the sofa, carrying you smoothly through the darkened corridor and into the master bedroom he shared with his wife, ready to finish what your mouth had started.
The move to the master bedroom was bathed in the cool, clinical glow of the city lights cutting through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Zuko didn't turn on a single lamp; he didn't want the harsh light to remind him of the modern, structured world he was currently burning to the ground. He carried your body across the dark basalt floor, the weight of your soft frame anchoring his hands as he walked toward the expansive, king-sized bed that he usually shared with Mai in a state of polite isolation.
He dropped you onto the mattress with a force that had the frame creaking sharply against the wall. Before you could even shift your weight or smooth down the hem of your blouse, Zuko was over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the neon skyline of the United Republic, his amber eyes wide and completely glazed over with a dark, primal hunger that made his chest heave beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The smell of his expensive cologne was entirely ruined now, thoroughly overtaken by the rich, bitter scent of the Pinot Noir and the sharp, unmistakable musk of his own release that you had just swallowed back in the living room.
He didn't give you a single second to breathe, his large, calloused hands shooting down to wrap securely around your ankles, wordlessly ripping down your soaked shorts in one move.
With an iron-like physical authority, he hauled your legs wide apart, pinning your knees back toward your shoulders until the hyper-sensitive, newly shaven flesh of your groin was completely exposed to the dark air of the room. You were already dripping, a thick, primal sheen of your own frantic arousal weeping from your inner labia, catching the ambient light like grease as your pussy executed a series of tight, frantic spasms in anticipation of his touch.
"You're so wet for me," Zuko growled softly, dropping his head between your legs. "I've spent months wondering what you taste like while you were playing the perfect nanny. Let me find out how sweet you are."
He didn't ease into the contact; Zuko buried his face directly into your soaking folds. His tongue darted out with a sudden, heavy pressure, flattening out against your puffy clit before executing a series of broad, ruthless upward strokes that had your hips instantly bucking off the mattress in a frantic arc.
"Ah—! Zuko!" you shrieked, your hands flying up to tangle in the dark, thick locks of his hair, your fingers digging deep into his scalp as your back arched completely off the sheets.
The sensation of his mouth devouring your pussy was a sensory execution. Zuko used his strong hands to lock your thighs in an unyielding grip, his fingers digging into the soft meat of your legs to keep you anchored while his tongue unmade your composure. He sucked your clit deep into the warm vacuum of his mouth, using a heavy, circular suction that turned the quiet room into a theater of pure, explicit noise—the thick, rhythmic squelches of his mouth working over your wetness echoing shamelessly in the room.
Sluck. Squelch. Sluck. Squelch.
He was relentless, his tongue diving deep into your pussy, licking the thick, clear sheen of your release from your inner ridges before coming back up to torment your sensitive clit. You were shaking violently beneath him, your toes curling as a sudden, white-hot wave of your own orgasm began to build in the center of your pelvic, driven by the absolute dominance of his mouth. He felt the muscles of your thighs tightening, a low, guttural grunt escaping his throat as he accelerated his pace, his chin covered in the clear fluid of your nectar.
Right as you reached the absolute precipice, your body executing a violent tremor as your pussy began to spray its hot, sweet-scented juice directly onto his lips, Zuko pulled back. He didn't let you cross the edge; he wanted you completely desperate, completely ruined by the physical realization of his control.
Before you could even sob out a protest, Zuko’s large hands gripped your waist, lifting your hips with a sudden, effortless manhandling you so now your body completely turned over, hands and knees on the silk sheets. You looked like an absolute vision, your head hung low against the mattress, your chest heaving as your breath came in short, ragged puffs, your plush buttocks canted high into the air.
Zuko stepped off the edge of the bed, standing tall over your vulnerable form as his fingers wrapped around his own length. His erection was completely, devastatingly rigid, completely raw and devoid of the protection of condom that he should have used. He positioned the plush tip directly against your soaking folds, the hot pre-come leaking from his slit smearing invisibly against your inner labia with a loud, wet plack.
He leaned his upper body down over your arched back, his chest pressing flush against your spine as his lips came down to press a soft, lingering kiss against the pale, slope of your left shoulder. It was a brief, almost tender moment of reassurance before the absolute violence of the coupling took over.
With a single thrust forward of his hips, Zuko's cock was in you.
"Ah! AGH!" you moaned into the sheets, eyes rolling back into your head as his entire length tore through your tight, walls in a single, unyielding motion that bottomed out against your cervix with a deafening, wet squelch.
The tightness of your pussy was immense, your ridges wrapping around his thick cock with a crushing, suffocating grip that left him completely paralyzed for a fraction of a second. Zuko let out a long, low groan, his jaw locking so tight his muscles stood out in sharp relief as the searing, heat of your core threatened to pull him under his climax instantly.
He didn't wait for your body to adjust. Zuko began to fuck you with a savage, relentless velocity. His hips turning into a frantic blur of motion, his pelvis repeatedly slamming hard against your plush buttocks with a heavy, rhythmic plack that vibrated directly through your spine.
Every single plunge into your cunt delivered a thick, soaking friction that churned your arousal into a thick, frothy lather around his base, the white cream proof of your shared lust and lubricating the raw, unprotected intrusion. You were completely unmade beneath him, your hands clawing uselessly at the pillows as he targeted your sweet spot with every deep thrust.
"Look at you... taking all of me raw," Zuko dirty-talked softly against your neck, his voice a ruined, breathless rasp. "You're so tight, baby... you're squeezing my cock like you want to rip it right off my body. Tell me how good it feels to take your boss's cock inside your pussy."
"It feels... ah, god... it feels so good, Zuko... fill me... please fill me up!" you sobbed out, your mind fracturing into a state of pure delirium as the relentless pacing of his hips drove you closer and closer to a second, devastating orgasm.
Zuko was a corporate king, a man built on a foundation of absolute control, yet he was completely reduced to a sweating, panting beast, his hands shaking as he held your waist to force your body to take the full weight of his lust.
The tension within his lower stomach had reached its limit, the hot, suffocating friction of your tight walls pulling him under a tide of absolute completion. He delivered one final, his pelvis completely flush against your ass, his hands holding your waist firmly that denied your body a single inch of movement.
"I'm cumming... ah, fuck, I'm cumming inside you," Zuko moaned into the darkness.
Inside the tight, wet vacuum of your pussy, his release erupted with an explosive, terrifying velocity. Just like before, his cum was thick, heavy, and hot. His cock twitching violently inside your pussy.
He collapsed forward onto your back, his chest heaving against your spine as his length slowly began to soften. Slowly, he shifted his weight, rolling you onto your back before pulling you tightly against his chest, his large arms wrapping securely around your waist. He leaned down, his amber eyes soft with a profound, quiet warmth as his lips met yours in a long, lingering kiss—a slow, heated contact that tasted of wine, sweat, and the absolute, permanent realization of your shared ruin.
@bananianii @justthirstyreading @foryvess ♡
