Page 226 of Untouchable

* * *

Harp groansand squeezes Parker around the waist tighter.

There's no way Parker could know how much self control it takes for Harp not to simply fuck into him with abandon—every fiber of his being is screaming at him to, is telling him this is the best feeling and he should chase it until he can't any more or until he's had enough and he ruins himself on it.

Instead, Harp stills himself to let the impulse pass, shuddering under Parker. Then, gently and with measured control, he rolls his hips up, presses up into Parker, breathless and squeezing his eyes shut at the abrupt sweetness of it. He can't stop, once he starts, and Harp rocks helpless and slow into Parker again.

When he opens his eyes, Parker is smiling and panting and the seriousness of the moment bursts again, into intimacy, into easiness. He catches Parker's bottom lip gently between his teeth as he continues to hip up off the bed with measured strokes.

* * *

The sharp sensationof Harp’s teeth on his lip is the perfect counterpoint to the steady, rhythmic way that Harp thrusts into him, and he can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry because of how perfect it all is. And, he thinks, knowing him, he’ll probably end up doing both.

And maybe that’s okay—because he is with Harp, and no one has ever seen a truer side of Parker, and wanted him not in spite of who Parker is, but because.

“Oh, Harp—” he gasps, his head falling forward, his lips brushing Harp’s ear. “You’re so good—oh god—”

His body begins to move a little more urgently now, rocking in rhythm to meet Harp’s thrusts, and he can barely remember how it felt when Harp’s cock inside him was almost too much, because now it’s everything he needs. He’s completely filled, completely claimed, by Harp.

He pulls back and opens his mouth to say something, but the change in angle makes Harp’s cock hit his prostate on the next thrust, and he’s left speechless, smiling and gasping with pleasure.

“What is it, baby?” Harper says, reaching up to stroke Parker’s stomach, looking concerned.

“Y-you’re holding back,” Parker manages to gasp out. “I—I want you to really fuck me. You’re not gonna hurt me—”

* * *

Harp groansbecause he is holding back—and he doesn't want to be but he still can't wrap his mind around the idea that he can just move the way his body wants to without hurting Parker.

It's never been that way, not with anybody. Some animal part of Harp wants to believe Parker though, wants to put faith in him that he'd say if it was too much, that he's relaxed and wants more and—

"Fuck it," Harp says into Parker's ear as he rolls them easily. Parker gasps and wraps his legs around Harp, smiling, but the minute Harp is on top of him, he needs more. Harp sits back, breaking the loop of Parker's legs. He hooks his arms under Parker's knees and presses forward, sinking the first long stroke that he's truly controlled and hoping he hasn't made a mistake.

"You okay?" he asks, enjoying the expanse of their bodies pressed together like this.

* * *

“Hell yes—”Parker says breathlessly, smiling up at Harp. This is what he wants—Harp feral and slightly aggressive, and still so, so gentle, like he’s only barely tamed some primal instinct stirring inside. Parker is infinitely thankful for all the yoga classes he’s gone to with Mindy, and he reaches up, pulling Harp down into a kiss so he’s practically bent in half.

“God—” Parker gasps into the kiss. His cock is trapped between them, wet and aching, and he snakes his hand between them to stroke himself, but it does little to relieve the wild need building in him.

* * *

It's so goddamnmuch to have Parker under him like this, arching off the bed, needing Harp just as much as Harp needs him.

He leans forward on his fists, pressing his forehead against Parker's, and stops thinking so hard. Their bodies move together effortlessly and Harp remembers how he'd felt before, talking to Parker about sex, how it was supposed to be something so easy between them and... it is, he realizes.

It's the easiest thing in the world to hold him there, to trust that Parker is happy, to satisfy himself as their bodies work together. He drops Parker's knees, wanting to be closer again. Parker drops his hand when Harp reaches for his cock and Harp pumps him for a few strokes in time with his own hips.

* * *

Parker grabs his own thigh,keeping himself spread and open for Harp, and he whimpers as Harp strokes him, tilting his face to kiss Harp, and, with Harp’s tongue in his mouth and Harp’s cock in his ass, Parker feels as though some kind of circuit is completed, and he’s suddenly blazing bright with need and want and happiness and pure joy.

He reaches his free arm up over head, his eyes slightly closing, and melts into the mattress even more, luxuriating in the sensation of being fucked hard, of giving himself up to someone and trusting them completely. And now, he realizes, there’s no fear, no long-fall-stomach-drop lurch of anxiety, because he knows down to his marrow that Harp would never, ever hurt him. He can give his heart, his soul, his body, freely, and he knows he’ll be loved unequivocally, unconditionally.

Harp slows, coming almost to a full stop to kiss Parker again—his mouth, his neck, down his outstretched arm, his chest. Harp leaves a trail of marks behind him, as if he’s channeling the momentum into his searing kisses even as he tries to slow them down.

“Fuck—”Parker pants helplessly. His body is crying out for more, desperate for Harp to keep pounding into him. Harp sits back on his heels for a moment, dragging Parker’s hips back with him so his cock stays buried, and Parker moans as Harp’s cock finds the perfect angle and his vision nearly whites out for a moment as a wave of pleasure rolls through him. He stretches both arms above him now, crossed at the wrist, and hooks his legs around Harp as Harp looks down at him, stroking Parker’s cock slowly.

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