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Omiai	By : sherawksyou Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female Views: 7211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
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A/N: While I love reviews, I would like to be rated for this story, even more.
Also, Avatar is still not mine.
Ursa turned around at the even tone to meet the golden gaze of her husband. He stood tall at the doorway of his chambers and shut the door behind him. The prince's face was heart shaped with a strong jaw. He had well-formed cheekbones and a straight and narrow nose. His full lips were unsmiling and stern though he was far more handsome than she initially suspected.
"My hood?" She repeated quietly as she put down the drum.
He took slow steps into the middle of his chambers his gaze still hard and locked on her face. "You took off your hood," He began, " Is that not my task?"
The young woman stared for a moment before her feet pattered across the soft obsidian carpet. Ursa slid onto the bed and tried her best to arrange the folds of her uchikake. She took the edges of her hood and pulled it over her shimada and bowed her head. "There, problem fixe-"
She fell silent as the prince drew closer to her, invading the personal space and clearly not amused by the young woman's cheeky humor.
“Ursa, stand up.” And so she did.
The prince didn't smile as he drew down her hood. He lifted her chin and inspected her face, showing no sign of approval. His thumb drew over the only color on her face, the application of red paint over her full lips, only smear it on the corner of her mouth. His other hand settled on the small of her back. There was a hash glow in her new husband's gold eyes, and Ursa suddenly wanted nothing more than the space between her chamber and his.
"My lord," Ursa pretended to yawn, "It has been... a long day. And it's the start of a what will be a very long life together. I think it's best that we reti-"
The prince drew a pin from her hair, and a wave of curls fell about her. "The ceremony has not been completed." He rumbled softly as he drew out the second. She felt his hand on her back lift, and then felt an intense heat draw a line down her back. There was a faint smell of burnt cloth.
It took Ursa a moment to realize the back of her robes had been burnt open, and just as soon, she felt the prince’s hands part the back of her now ruined robes. "My lord-" She began again before his lips brushed over hers, the motion questioning and tongue tip uncertain. The prince then kissed harder, as if he had decided he enjoyed the taste of her mouth. He made a pleased sound as his hands wove over her body, burning the silk that impeded his earnest decision to enjoy his new wife.
When he pulled away, Ursa began a second time, "Oza-"
He clutched her arm, and she realized how truly strong her new husband was, the bulk under his robes wasn't fat and softness. "As of now, you are still a merchant's daughter." His tone was silken and his eyes as bright as the sun narrowed. "And your place is not yet secure. Try again, Ursa. Address me the correct way."
"M-my lord,” Ursa felt as if her tongue was lame and dumb, her words were clumsy and fell poorly from her lips. “How did you... burn my clothes but not ... not me?" The young woman's hands lightly braced against his chest, as if she could possibly coax him away.
The young man took her wrists and placed them her sides before giving them a tight squeeze. His large hand then pressed against her chest to push her down onto the bed. "I choose what burns." He said simply, a fact that she should have known and that he could easily allowed her to burn. Ursa's eyes grew wide as she considered his words and glanced to the jar on the stand next to them. She realized it was burn salve.
The young groom tilted his head and slowly he began to grin at the expression her face. He then his hand brushed against her chest. "So fast... so frightened... your heart beat is just like a bird's." The smile was almost feral in quality; his teeth were white and sharp.
The front of her robes and her chest wrap had been singed open. Her full breasts were exposed with ash smudges across her pale flesh. The prince made a pleased humming sound as his fingers ran over the edge of her goose fleshed areola. He leaned over to kiss her again, his lips gentler than his words.
As they kissed, Ursa felt his hands tug up the uchikake's skirt and hike it about her waist. Ursa thought in horror that he would use fire to burn the delicate gauze of her fundoshi. The sudden ripping of cloth answered that question and the remains of her fundoshi were pulled away to expose her sex. The prince’s tongue flickered once over her lips, then down her throat and over her exposed skin. He pushed the ruined clothes from her breasts and belly, slowly kneeling as he went.
His breath tickled against her folds and Ursa held her breath and closed her eyes, prepared for this inspection of her maidenhead, or rather, the lack of it. The young woman was a maiden, no doubt of that, though her new husband was not the first man she kissed. Ursa had no patience for her monthly cycle, and during her fourteenth year, she managed to tear her maidenhead in her attempt to stop the flow. Her story was on the tip of her tongue as she felt his fingers part the lips of her vulva.
“Aaah…!” It took a display of will power that she never had before to keep from moaning his name. The prince made an agonizingly slow lick over her hooded clitoris and her hips jerked with the motion. His nails tug into the pale flesh of her rump to pull her closer to the edge of the bed.
Ursa was not one of the sheltered maidens and she knew what he was doing. Whispers and gossip among her married friends were more than audible to her ears. And somehow, the soft motions of his mouth and tongue made her more humiliated than he seeking proof of her virginity.
To Ursa’s eyes, he would see proof and pull away to consummate their marriage. To taste her, he would have to see everything. The perceived blemishes of a young woman, the scars of early self grooming, the pudge and weight of her impossible thighs. His grip only got tighter as she tried to squirm away and an embarrassed sob escaped her.
The embarrassment that swept down her body kept her from initially enjoying the sensation between her legs and the slow build up of desire. The prince’s tongue flicked and explored, as if he found the plump nether lips some delectable treat and the growth of his goatee brushed against sensitive skin. He drew flesh between his lips and his soft suckling sounds made Ursa whimper and flush.
When his teeth that gently took her now budded clitoris between them, she froze at the hard tug of her nub. The sensation felt wonderful and began to overcome the heat of shame with the pain of need. Her breath came in gasps as her hands clutched the covers of the bed. The tugging continued, and her breath labored in time with his teasing. Ursa’s hips began to rock against the heat of his fire like mouth as she felt crackle of her own energy dance down her arms.
Then his lips surrounded her nub and he sucked while his tongue rolled over the now hard bud. Her hips bucked in response and her eyes closed shut. The knots and clenching that had been building between her legs became undone. A wordless cry escaped her lips and fine shudders ran through her body.
The stench of burnt cloth and smoke entered her nose and for a moment she wondered what else her husband had set on fire. It was only when she unclenched her hand she realized she was the culprit for the smell. Her palms had scorched the satin coverlet.
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Omiai