Touch
Touch
Harry shifted to be steady and comfortable as the soft, silk scarves wound around his wrists and gently pulled his hands over his head, the ends securing themselves to the tall ceiling. They weren’t tight and left him enough slack that his shoulders weren’t being wrenched upwards. It was the perfect position for rotating his hands just enough to grasp the scarves, as he knew he would in moments.
He was up on his knees, parted the perfect amount in anticipation. The silken sheets under him were cool against his already heated skin. He shivered at the cool air, not yet heated by activity.
He couldn’t help his jump and gasp as long fingers danced up his sides, just light enough to entice, but not to tickle. Hot breath landed on his neck as lips brushed the crook between his neck and shoulder, making him tilt his head in further invitation. A hum and lips moving across the back of his shoulders was the response he got. Hands moved down to his hips, fingers splayed and tips just at the edges of his dark, wiry hair.
Harry groaned, head falling back and landing on a shoulder. One of the hands moved again, up to slide across his toned stomach and then his abdomen and then his chest. A relatively smooth palm glided over a nipple and he jerked at the spark that ran through his body at the touch. The hand kept moving while lips kissed up his neck, along his jawline, across his shoulder.
His breathing grew harsh and heavy, his eyes fluttering, and he tried to keep enough focus to not let his entire body weight sag against the silk bonds over his head. He was on fire, his entire body flushed.
“Please,” he breathed.
Lips hummed questioningly against his jaw, making his heart pound almost painfully.
“Severus,” he whispered, almost hissing.
More humming, the sound so calm and casual that Harry’s moan when a hand wrapped around his erection and the other entered him sounded obnoxiously loud. His eyes fell shut, his head hit Severus’ shoulder again, and his hands clenched around the scarves. Both hands moved in sync, never letting him catch a breath between strokes and thrusts.
“Can you come like this, love?” Severus whispered into his ear, the first words he spoke in nearly an hour. “Just from my touch?”
While Severus was finally speaking, Harry had lost the ability all together. Severus knew perfectly well his touch was all that was needed, regardless of anything else that may have been wanted.
The hands continued moving, picking up speed, making Harry’s breathing follow. Severus bumped his nose against Harry’s cheek and, knowing what the man wanted, Harry turned his head. Lips captured his, the kiss hard and deep despite the slightly awkward angle. Harry moaned and panted into it, his body tightening and the heat increasing and the building pleasure a coil deep inside.
It all released several minutes later and Harry cried out, his body shuddering and his fingers tightening until they were white on the ties that held him. He tried to sink, but the scarves and Severus’ arm winding around his waist kept him on his knees.
Fingers pulled out and the bed shifted as Severus moved in front of him. Harry cracked his eyes open and so badly wanted to scowl at the satisfied smirk on the man’s face, but found his head still too foggy to muster up much more than heavy breathing. He let his head fall against one of his extended arms, making a happy sound as Severus leaned in for another kiss.
“Alright, love?”
Harry opened his eyes again, everything steadily becoming clearer, and nodded, smiling.
Severus smirked again. “Then shall we continue?”
Harry leaned forward to quickly capture another kiss before pulling back and grinning, his eyes flashing in challenge. “Do your worst.”
And, oh, how wonderful the ‘worst’ could be.
Fin