Triptych

[edana_ni_emer]

Title: Triptych
Author: Edana ni Emer
Rating: NC-17. Bigtime.
Summary: Bob's more irresistible than Harry is straight.  Harry's a little slow on the uptake, though.
Notes: Smut.  Pure smut. Wall-to-wall smut.  Also kink, and a threesome.  And smut on the side.  Basically, PWP. Don't worry about the OFC, though.  By the end of it, even Harry's aware that she's pretty much just a plot device.
Beta: The ever-wonderful pinkdoom  and my dear friend shaiperihawk , who gave me more encouragement than she probably should have.

Harry swallowed nervously, squirming against the pillows propping him up and twisting his wrists in the restraints as the girl-he hadn't even gotten her name that's how rattled he was-finished securing his ankle. She knelt beside him on the bed and kissed him delicately, running one hand down his bare chest to his hip. Her fingers were warm, and her fingernails scratched lightly against his skin. He couldn't help but respond, she was gorgeous and Bob had apparently been paying attention to his type, but half of his attention was elsewhere. Specifically on Bob himself, who was standing at the foot of the bed and watching them with glittering dark eyes. Harry had no idea where Bob had gotten the black leather pants and silver-gray silk shirt. For all he knew Bob had magicked them up from the raw firmament. It was a lot easier to focus on that, though, and try to ignore how good he looked in them. He was sleek and predatory and unruffled even with the buttons of his shirt undone to the waist of the pants, and Harry tried to avoid noticing that Bob was already starting to show... interest.

Bob caught his eye and glided in barefoot silence to stand at his side. He leaned forward to place a soft kiss behind her ear, making her tilt her head to allow greater access and hum quietly in pleasure, then bent to whisper, silky-soothing, in Harry's ear.

“No need to look so worried, Harry. You can get out of the cuffs any time you need to, and if anything happens that you don't like, all you have to do is say so.” Bob's breath against his neck had every inch of Harry's skin standing at attention, sending goosebumps rippling outward in a wave. A pleased feminine chuckle followed by a warm wet mouth and gently scraping teeth against his nipple made him exhale shudderingly and clench his hands around the ties that held him to the bed. Harry could hear the smile in Bob's voice as he continued, “And you certainly shouldn't worry that I won't keep my word. I said I wouldn't touch you, and indeed I shan't. I did promise the lady a good time, though. I do intend to deliver, and you needn't worry about any damage to your orientation.”

Bob straightened to gaze for a long moment into Harry's eyes, making sure Harry was watching as he turned away, stepping behind the girl to trail his fingers up her spine and gather her long, dark hair into his hands. She arched like a cat, leaning back to lay her head on his shoulder while her hands busily teased Harry's chest, scratching through the sparse hair with her nails and caressing whisper-soft with the pads of her fingers. Bob left one hand buried in her hair, bringing the other to lay flat against her belly. His long fingers brushed the very edge of the tiny red lace thong that was all she wore as he pulled her closer against his body. She smiled lazily and twisted her hips to rub against him, causing Bob to smile against her skin as he dropped little nibbling kisses from the point of her shoulder to the narrow band of leather that was buckled around her neck. He ran his tongue under the edge of it, then set his teeth against the soft flesh and started to slowly bite down. She gasped, her eyes closing as she melted against him. Her moist red mouth fell open, and her breathing started to quicken as the pressure increased. Harry watched, dry-mouthed.

Soon she was squirming, making hot little whimpers that drove Harry nuts as Bob tightened his grip on her hair to hold her still. Her hands had long since abandoned their task of making him crazy and she was now combing her fingers through Bob's hair, pulling him closer. Harry tried to stifle the tiny twinge of envy that rose up in his gut and focused instead on the way her nipples had tightened and her thighs had spread, on the sheen of sweat that was starting to appear all over her body. Not on the way Bob's fingers were stroking the lowest curve of her belly with feather-light touches. Certainly not on the way Bob's pale eyelashes fell against his cheeks when he closed his eyes.

Bob finally released the pressure and pulled back to look at the vivid set of teethmarks that stood out so brightly against her skin. He brought his hand up to trace a finger along them, making her shudder again.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purred, ghosting down to skim ever-so-gently over red lace, and then again. His smile sharpened as she bucked up, begging for more contact. “Very good girl.” He rubbed his fingers together, looking pleased. Harry closed his eyes and swallowed, heat shooting through his veins. Yeah, he knew what that meant.

The mattress shifted slightly under him, and he opened his eyes to see that Bob had urged her off the bed. From the way she was clinging to his neck as he stood behind her, her knees weren't working too well. Harry figured that he'd be in the same spot, if he tried to stand up right now. Well, if he could. He tugged lightly on his bonds, ignoring the fact that he could be out of them in seconds.

Meanwhile, Bob's hands were wandering. He cupped her breasts briefly, pinching and tugging at her nipples, before slipping his hands down her sides to slide his fingers under the waistband of her panties. A flick of his wrists, and they were whispering down her legs to be kicked aside. He nudged a knee between her legs, then brought his foot up to rest on the bed so her leg was draped over his and spread wide. He really was doing his best to make sure his spectator got a good view, Harry noted with what brain cells were still functioning. Several more fizzed out when he saw Bob's hand slide up her smooth thigh, fingers searching. When they reached their destination, his eyebrows went up. That's right, Harry thought distractedly. Women didn't get Brazillians back when he was human the first time.

The novelty didn't seem to slow him down, though. It wasn't long before he had her gasping again, and wiggling so hard he had to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her on her feet. Just as her soft, breathy noises were getting urgent, he withdrew his fingers. Her outraged cry earned her a sharp nip on the ear and she subsided, breathing hard. He picked her up and draped her across Harry's legs, more or less in his lap. Grinning wickedly at Harry, he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed between her spread legs. Harry gulped. Bob really did look damn good on his knees, though Harry figured that it wasn't exactly a common sight.

Bob leaned forward, and Harry caught a glimpse of tongue before the girl arched her back and squealed. He was going to die. He was going to die right here, from the scent of sex in the air, the feel of sleek flesh squirming in his lap, and the sight of that white head between those smooth thighs. Especially the way Bob kept looking up at him out of the corner of his eye, as though to make sure he was still paying attention. His heart was going to explode, and he was going to die.

Her moans were getting louder again, her head thrashing back and forth, her hips undulating. One of Bob's hands had disappeared from its place on her hip, and she certainly seemed to approve of that, too, if the noises she was making were any indication. Her breath hitched, was held for a moment, then exploded out in an inarticulate cry as her head fell back and her hips bucked again and again.

Bob stayed where he was for a bit longer, clearly easing her down. She lay there and trembled, her skin glowing with perspiration, her face glowing with satisfaction and pleasure. Harry was shaking just as much, sweating just as much, and he only wished he were as satisfied. He watched Bob sit back on his heels and pull a handkerchief, an actual fucking handkerchief, from somewhere to fastidiously wipe his face with a sly smile. He had a feeling that he'd be finding that absolutely hilarious, later. Right now he was too focused on not swearing a blue streak or just breaking out of the manacles and making somebody give him some relief.

Bob stood and knelt on the bed, taking the girl's wrist to draw her up into a sitting position. He examined her face closely for a moment, then smiled slowly before leaning in to kiss her. Well enough, apparently, to make her wrap her arms around his neck and whimper again. He pulled back far enough to trace his thumb across her lower lip.

“I think Harry's been quite patient enough, don't you?” he said. She smiled and nodded. Oh, thank God, was all Harry could think as she crawled to kneel between his legs. He couldn't help but hiss as she took him in hand, throwing his head back with his eyes tight-squeezed shut, fighting for control. He was not going to pop off right out of the gate like a seventeen-year-old virgin.

“Harry,” he heard Bob say. “Harry, look at me.”

He blinked his eyes open with an effort to see Bob regarding him from the other end of the bed, flushed and intent. Their eyes held for several breaths, searching for God knew what in each other's gaze. Harry felt his breathing even and his hands unclench, and the corners of Bob's eyes crinkled ruefully.

“But for a promise,” he sighed. Harry was fairly certain he hadn't intended to say that out loud. Bob smoothed his hand up the girl's spine, leaning down to murmur in her ear as his hand curled around the back of her neck.  "Why don't you crawl up and give him a kiss, my dear? He certainly looks like he could use one."

She slithered up his body, her slick soft skin sliding against him, to straddle his waist.  He could feel her, hot and wet against the skin of his belly as she leaned forward to lick her way between his lips. The kiss was deep and dirty, and he almost lost track of Bob as he tasted her and felt her squirming against him. Almost.

But every time Bob shifted his weight enough to make the mattress move, Harry felt it.  Every time his leather pants creaked, Harry heard it.  His senses were so attuned it almost felt like he could smell him, leather, sweat, woodsmoke, and herbs, borne to him on the same air that hung so thickly with the smell of sex. The girl scratched her nails lightly down his sides, making him shiver, and started working her way back down with lips and tongue.  The trail her kisses left was a chill contrast to the heat of her mouth as she licked his sweat and the taste of her own body from his skin. She let him rest between her soft breasts for a moment, supporting herself on her knees as she drew her nails down his flanks hard enough to sting.  He hissed and rubbed up against her involuntarily, as much as he could at least, and then again because it just felt so damn good.  He was interrupted by the sound of a light smack, though from the look on her face and the noise she made, the swat on her ass wasn't something she objected to.

"Not the time to get distracted, my sweet," came dangerous murmur from the end of the bed.  "Back to what you were doing." She shuddered and swiped her tongue across her lush lower lip, smiling. With no further prelude, she planted her hands on either side of his hips and slid her legs back so she was braced above him on her hands and knees, her mouth a breath above his erection. She dipped her head slightly to slide her silky lips across the head in butterfly-light kisses, and all Harry cold do was ache, holding tremblingly still.  Then her mouth opened, and warm air surrounded him before he felt the touch of her clever, agile tongue. She seemed to savor the taste of him, taking lingering licks that caressed every millimeter, before sucking his cock into her mouth.  She teased him with slow bobs of her head, interspersing hard rubs of her tongue right below the crown with strong suction.  With every down-stroke she drew him in a little further, until without warning she swallowed him whole.

By now Harry's eyes had rolled back in his head, but that was okay.  He couldn't keep them open anymore anyway, and sight wasn't high on his agenda.  Remembering to breathe was.  Trying to remember not to choke her was.  For the first time ever, getting to lay back and enjoy and not worry about reciprocation or losing his cool... that was on the agenda too.  She swallowed a few times, the muscles of her throat massaging him in a way that nearly finished him off then and there, then pulled back to use her lips and tongue again.  Just as he was starting to get into the rhythm, her ministrations ground to a halting stop, and her mouth's clever movements were replaced with the vibration of her whimpers and moans. Harry opened his eyes again and looked down.

Bob knelt behind her, looking faintly smug, with one hand on the small of her back and the other hidden from sight by her hips.  Harry wasn't sure what Bob was doing, but he could sure guess.  She shuddered and threw her head back, gasping for air, then squirmed unhappily.

"Oh, no.  I was perfectly willing to get you off again like this, but then you stopped," Bob said, eyes heavy-lidded.  "Regardless, I think it's time for something different."

Harry could see the sheen of moisture on Bob's fingers as he wrapped his hands around her waist and guided her into position kneeling astride Harry's hips. He pressed himself against her back, lending leverage and support as she sank down on Harry's cock while taking care not to actually touch Harry--not even as he shifted his hands and spread her soft flesh wide to more easily accept Harry's own.   She was slick and scalding hot, tight and wonderful around him, but all he could see was the look in Bob's eyes as they gazed down at him with lust and tenderness.

She shifted slightly, squirming against him, but Bob held her still with a firm grip on her hips. When she finally moved, Harry could tell it was at Bob's direction and to the pace he allowed; soft and slow at first, with a rocking twist that made her sink her teeth into her bottom lip.  The pace increased in achingly slow increments.  Harry was bound well enough that he couldn't really speed things up himself, and Bob seemed to take delight in driving the both of them to cursing his name inarticulately.   By now the sheets underneath Harry were soaked with sweat, and his throat was getting raw from the noises he wasn't able to stop himself from making.  Soon Bob had abandoned his grip on her hips, and instead had one hand at her breast and the other between her thighs, working her into a frenzy as he feasted at her neck with lips and tongue and teeth.

She was riding him hard now, just using him to help get herself off, and Harry had never been more turned on in his life. And he was pretty sure that if he came first, one of them would probably kill him. Just as he thought he might not be able to hold on any longer, he felt her slam down on him as her internal muscles tightened almost brutally around him.  Finally able to let himself go, he fell over the edge.  He could barely hear her cries over the roaring in his own ears, and the sparkles that crept around the edges of his vision blurred the edges of her expression, but he could feel every spasm and twist of her body as it echoed his own.  And through it all was Bob... his eyes the only thing Harry could see clearly, his voice the only thing Harry could hear.  It was scary as hell, but that didn't make it any less amazing.

The last quivers of sensation faded away and Harry lay gasping for breath as she slumped over him, also panting. She shifted a little to nuzzle at his neck and purred. Harry looked down and saw Bob stroking and massaging her hips and thighs. Harry couldn't help the grunt that escaped when Bob lifted her off of him, pulling her back slightly and shifting her legs so she could rest on her knees again. She folded her arms on Harry's chest to rest her head on and smiled up at him with a look like a contented cat.  Bob dropped a kiss at the base of her spine, then straightened.  Harry smiled a little in empathy at the look of relief on Bob's face that accompanied the sound of his zipper opening.

Then there was a soft slick sound that Harry never had the brain cells left to notice when it was him involved, and she was writhing on top of him as Bob set a harsh, fast rhythm. By the third stroke she was whimpering, by the fourth stroke she was moaning, and it seemed like screaming wouldn't be far behind. Bob's hair was starting to stick to his temples, damp with sweat, and the silver of his shirt had darkened in places to steel.  The silk was clinging to the muscles in his shoulders and arms, and Harry was nearly hypnotized by the way those muscles bunched and flexed as he moved.  If he hadn't already gotten off then he might have just from watching this, from hearing and feeling this.

She was starting to make those noises that by now Harry knew meant she was close.  Bob let his head fall back and quickened his pace.  Harry's mouth watered at the long line of Bob's sweat-slick throat.  A few more deep thrusts, and noises from her that curled warm and sweet in his belly, and her nails were biting into his chest hard enough to draw blood as she came again with a whimpering shudder.

Harry watched wide-eyed as Bob ground his teeth and shoved his hips forward one last time, his orgasm heralded not by a moan or a scream but by a growl that sent shivers through Harry's entire body.  Bob stayed there for a few moments, breathing deeply and absently gliding his fingers down the girl's back and sides.

He collected himself well enough to pull away, earning a discontented noise from the girl.  Not bothering to fasten his pants, he eased her down to lie on her side facing Harry and curled up close behind her.  He braced his head  up on one hand and leaned in to speak quietly into her ear, gently stroking her hip.  She made a soft, pleased noise. Bob smiled, but he wasn't meeting Harry's eyes despite the little glances he kept sneaking when he thought Harry wasn't looking.  He seemed a lot more tense than a man who'd just had a romp like that ought to look, too.  Harry tugged his wrists free of the restraints with barely a thought and rolled over to lay one hand over Bob's on her hip.

"Hey," he said, his voice still a little raw.  Bob's eyes flickered up to meet his, finally.  Bob was always pretty crummy at hiding deep emotion, and his nervousness and deep caring and desperate hope that he hadn't fucked things up beyond all repair were clear. He'd gambled everything on his ability to affect Harry, and without even being allowed to touch him. Harry tugged Bob's hand up to lace their fingers together and smiled, letting his own feelings shine through.

"It's okay," he chuckled fondly. "You won."

Bob's eyes closed and he took a deep breath as he fought for composure... but the sudden fierce grip on Harry's hand said it all.

~fin~