Page 227 of Untouchable

“I—”

I love youalmost slips out, but he knows if he says it now, Harp will think it’s just the heat of the moment, and Parker’s sure that Harp’s skittish about the word. Parker hardly cares, though. He knows it’s true. He knows it’s reciprocated.

“I—you make me feel so good,” he finishes, a little lamely. It’s right, of course, but the words fall so short of what he’s feeling.

* * *

Harp registersthe words somewhere in the back of his mind, but he's almost all body now, his own breathing loud in his ears. He just wants Parker, more of Parker, his body cries out for it absurdly even when Harp's cock is buried in him.

All mine, he thinks illogically as he rocks his hips and drinks the pleasure of the moment as deep as he can.

* * *

“Please—” Parker gasps as Harp thrusts again, and he looks up at Harp desperately. He notes suddenly that he’s closer to coming than he even realized, but his own orgasm hardly seems to matter. He rolls his body to meet Harp’s, panting out another little plea.

Harp practically growls as he leans forward with a thrust so hard Parker loses his breath for a moment in the best way, and Parker catches a flash of something dark and lovely in Harp’s eyes as he reaches up and captures Parker’s wrists, pinning him easily to the mattress with one hand. Parker’s cock pulses helplessly in Harp’s other hand, and all he can do is moan and whimper openly into Harp’s mouth as Harp kisses him once more.

"I love having you like this," Harp says, and his eyes widen, as if he’s shocked at the words tumbling out unchecked from some unexpected part of him.

"Like what?" Parker pleads. "Tell me."

"You're so eager and so fucking hot, Parker, it's goddamned devastating," he growls into Parker's neck as he curls over Parker's body, rocking hard into him and keeping time with his hand, squeezing around Parker's wrists.

"Oh God—"

"All for me. Fuck, you drive me out of my mind," Harp groans.

“Yes,” Parker gasps, his whole brain, his whole body lighting up at the sound of Harp like this, fierce and wild and powerful. He’s too far gone to feel self-conscious, all he can think about is how he needs this, how he needs Harp telling him how good he is, how much Harp wants him, how Harp growling praise in his ear as he fucks Parker into the mattress is the most intoxicating thing Parker has ever experienced.

“Tell me,” Parker pleads again, knowing he’s perilously close to the edge of coming and not caring. He’s free-falling, lost to everything but Harp.

* * *

Harp's heartseems to miss a beat at the desperation in Parker's voice.

It hadn't even occurred to him to praise Parker because it was so obvious that Parker knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how beautiful he looked and how perfect his body is under Harp's hands.

"You're so fucking good, you're so tight and fucking fit and I love everything about your goddamn body," Harp says, dropping Parker's wrists because he needs to feel Parker's body under his free hand as soon as he says the words. He's babbling and he knows it. Out of eloquence, Harp feels like he's made of need. "I love your cock and your ass and your mouth and your skin and the way you smell."

* * *

Parker wants to reply,wants to tell Harp all the things he loves about him, the way his cock fills Parker like nothing has before, how Harp’s hands, so large and calloused, are impossibly gentle, even as they’re raking across his body, the way Harp always seems to sense what Parker needs before he even knows, how he’s so fucking talented in bed, how everything about his body, the hair on his chest, the broad span of his shoulders, the perpetual furrow in his brow, drives Parker wild.

But all that manages to come out is a high, keening noise that might be—but probably isn’t—anything coherent.

"I wish I could do this all day," Harp says, burying his face again in the skin of Parker's neck. "You're so fucking good baby, you're so patient and kind and..."

What keeps bubbling out of Harp’s mouth isn't even sexual—it's just downright praise—but Parker keeps moaning and Harp doesn't stop.

"You're so fucking good to me, baby," Harp says, slowing down the pace of his thrusts but not his hand twisting around Parker's cock. Parker lets out a raw moan. "You make me feel better than anyone ever has—It's all new with you, fuck, you're so good, so sweet—fucking you is perfect."

Harp is fucking him slower and harder and deeper now, and Parker’s so strung out he’s not sure he could remember his last name if someone asked him. Harp’s words seem to bypass Parker’s brain entirely, zinging through his blood and right to his heart, instantly indelible. He’d never know how deeply he needed to hear this, and the fierceness in Harp’s voice leaves no room for doubt or insecurity.

He only realizes he’s crying when he feels Harp’s lips brush against the side of his face, suddenly cool.

“I’m yours, Harp,” he gasps. “I’m totally yours.”

* * *

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