[ Parker shifts over her as he holds on to him. He slows down a little, always worried and gentle, when she grips tighter. Makes sure she's okay, but she is, she would tell him otherwise, he knows, so he relaxes into her again. Breath hitched up and hard and heavy as he settles close to her. He pulls a hand around to her leg, sliding under it to keep it close to his hip and a little high up, knows he can move deeper like that and god, he can feel the way it changes. Parker gasps softly into her skin, burrowing his nose on her neck as he closes his eyes in concentration. It's hard, to keep that rhythm, but for a while he wants it to be slow and soft and gentle. He makes sure he pulls all the way back and pushes all the way to the hilt of him. Feels her clench around him and he whimpers, shuddering pathetically into her. It's hard to focus.
Every little stroke of him pulls a low moan. He feels himself throb, like a pull from deep down, and curls over her with a soft noisel. Parker kisses her neck, whispering sweet nothings to her ear. That she's perfect and he is nothing but hers, all his heart, hers, hers, hers, but she doesn't need those words, she knows.
Then, it coils so much in his belly he can't help it. He shifts his legs and hips, getting a little more leverage. He finds the best position for both of them (her more than him, always) and angles his hips so that he can move faster, can't help to buck a little harder at a particular good pulse through him. Pulling his face from her neck to brush her nose to hers, gasping and moaning and never being able to stop making little noises because god, she feels-- she feels--
Parker keeps looking at her. Kisses her, again and again. The hand on her thigh moves to her hip as he picks up the pace, better hold like that. He focus, has to, keeps a fast pace, but careful to not to lose too much control. Wouldn't want to enjoy himself alone in this. He kisses her jaw, panting for her, pressing his words to her skin, ]
You okay? Is this-- Want faster?
[ Or slower or more or whatever she wants because he loves this too much to be able to pick a right pace. ]
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Every little stroke of him pulls a low moan. He feels himself throb, like a pull from deep down, and curls over her with a soft noisel. Parker kisses her neck, whispering sweet nothings to her ear. That she's perfect and he is nothing but hers, all his heart, hers, hers, hers, but she doesn't need those words, she knows.
Then, it coils so much in his belly he can't help it. He shifts his legs and hips, getting a little more leverage. He finds the best position for both of them (her more than him, always) and angles his hips so that he can move faster, can't help to buck a little harder at a particular good pulse through him. Pulling his face from her neck to brush her nose to hers, gasping and moaning and never being able to stop making little noises because god, she feels-- she feels--
Parker keeps looking at her. Kisses her, again and again. The hand on her thigh moves to her hip as he picks up the pace, better hold like that. He focus, has to, keeps a fast pace, but careful to not to lose too much control. Wouldn't want to enjoy himself alone in this. He kisses her jaw, panting for her, pressing his words to her skin, ]
You okay? Is this-- Want faster?
[ Or slower or more or whatever she wants because he loves this too much to be able to pick a right pace. ]