Usually, they did this the other way.
Gideon always bottomed like a champ, and Harrow always had an elaborate plan, and it always felt amazing. Gideon didn’t complain - she wouldn’t, she couldn’t, not when it was Harrow, and Harrow made it good.
It scanned, at least in her mind, that if she liked it when Harrow pounded her within an inch of her life with a strap-on, that maybe Harrow would like it too. But the first time they’d brought it up, Harrow had screwed up her face and wrinkled her nose and wrapped her arms around herself, and Gideon had let it drop. “Ask me again later,” Harrow had promised. “It’s not a no. It’s a ‘not right now’.”
Not to say that it wasn’t satisfying for Gideon to get fucked six ways from Sunday by her clever, gorgeous necromancer, but, well, sometimes she thought about what it would be like if Harrow was the one to let go. If Harrow could be sprawled out and dewy with sweat, unable to speak. And it was pretty damn hot to think that Gideon could be the one to give that to her.
Harrow usually didn’t like much penetration, but Gideon knew she could make it good if Harrow trusted her, if Harrow gave her a chance. Besides, that’s what sex-in-love was about, right? Experimentation, trust, new and creative ways to give each other orgasms. Gideon had ordered the six-inch, fairly slender, double-headed black toy with a flared base to slip inside herself and a dildo end that would sit inside Gideon while the harness held it to her body. They would be moving inside each other at the same time.
Gideon brought it up again at the breakfast table, which caused Harrow to choke and spit out a full sip of black coffee.
“Excuse me?” Harrow wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “It’s seven in the morning, and you’re asking me if I’d like you to fuck me with a strap-on?”
“No,” Gideon said innocently, “it’s seven-fifteen.”
Harrow took a deep breath and steepled her fingers. “Though this is a completely inappropriate time - and venue - for this conversation, you should know that I’ve considered it at length previously. And it sounds… pleasurable. If your responses are anything to go by.”
Gideon’s eyes brightened.
“So that’s a yes?”
Harrow took another sip of her coffee to replace the one that had splattered all over their table.
“It’s a yes. Grab me a towel for this coffee and meet me in the bedroom.”
“Wait – right now?”
“You brought it up first.”
A few minutes later had brought them where they were now, Gideon kneeling between Harrow’s legs at the foot of their big four-poster bed, Harrow’s hands clenched in the sheets.
“Warm me up first,” Harrow had said, guiding Gideon’s head down between her legs. They hadn’t even touched the strap-on yet. It sat in its own black bag in the top drawer of their nightstand. When Gideon had first unveiled it, Harrow had given it a long, slow look, neither approving nor disapproving, and Gideon could have sworn she saw the cogs in Harrow’s head turning.
Gideon ate pussy so well that Harrow’s nerves almost completely dissipated. For a lazy, delicious fifteen minutes, her world was all tongue. At the beginning, it had been awkward, but with gusto (Gideon’s) and trust (Harrow’s), cunnilingus became their mutual favorite thing in the world. Gideon knew by now to swirl her tongue around Harrow’s clit, holding firm and consistent pressure. No funny business. The magazines said to “write your name on her clit!” and “switch it up when you get into a rhythm” but what Harrow really craved in bed was predictability and familiarity.
And, predictably, Gideon had moved to finally take a breath, pressing a kiss to her pubic mound before tenderly spreading her legs a little further and licking down further past her clit, dipping her tongue into her cunt. Messy, but Gideon always liked it messy.
Harrow felt the familiar ache of orgasm building in her core and had the presence of mind to card her hands through Gideon’s hair. “I don’t want to come quite yet,” she gasped. “Stop,” and Gideon pulled back, Harrow’s juices shining on her face.
Harrow sat up, propping herself on her elbows. “Okay. Go get it.” She couldn’t quite steel her nerves enough to stop the small tremble in her shoulders.
Gideon reached over, Harrow passively admiring how the long line of her left side body uncoiled, and pulled the bag from the drawer, the strap-on from the bag, the harness from its place beside them. Harrow took a breath.
“Hey,” Gideon said. “If you’re nervous, we don’t have to do this. I’m excited, but I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“No,” Harrow said. “I want this.”
Gideon leaned back over and kissed her. Harrow pulled up into the kiss, determined, fiery, with more vigor than usual. She dug her sharp fingernails into Gideon’s shoulders and pulled her closer, trying to communicate that she was sure.
“Wow, okay.” Gideon was breathing heavily as Harrow broke away. “We’re doing this.” And she stood, struggling into the harness - it was sexy to Harrow, though to an outsider it would have looked awkward and goofy - and began to adjust the leather straps to settle into her hips.
“Let me.” Harrow swung her legs off the side of the bed. “I want to do it.” With her nimble necromancer’s fingers, she tightened the straps to lay snug, but not uncomfortable, against Gideon’s hips and between her legs. She ran a finger from the place where Gideon’s pubic hair began to sprout, gently down, circling her clit a few times and ghosting up against her vulva before withdrawing it. Gideon closed her eyes and let her mouth fall open at the sensation.
“Fuck,” she said, shifting from foot to foot.
“Are you ready?” The strap-on was only medium-to-average sized, but it looked huge in Harrow’s hand. “I’m going to get it situated.”
Gideon adjusted her stance, spreading her legs to allow Harrow to slip the flared side inside of her, rolling her neck and biting her lip. Where Harrow was hesitant, Gideon loved penetration, loved to be filled with Harrow’s fingers or the much-larger strap-on.
“I love seeing you like this,” she said quietly. “One day, I’m going to find out how much you can take. How much I can fill you up.”
“But not today,” Gideon countered. “Today is about you. Though I do look pretty hot in this.” She took one hand up the length of the dildo jutting up and out from her body, making a jack-off motion a few times and flexing. Harrow rolled her eyes but twitched the corner of her mouth upward.
“Lube first,” she ordered. She moved a finger down to her own cunt and found it still dripping, muscles feeling loose from when Gideon had eaten her out earlier but didn’t want to chance a painful stretch that might cause her to tense up and panic. Lazily, she dipped in and out of herself. Gideon obediently slicked up with a quick squirt of lube and shifted from foot to foot, still waiting for Harrow to give her permission.
Finally, a shaky breath in: “I’m ready.” Gideon crossed back to the bed, confident and eager, adjusting herself and positioning herself on her knees with little hitching breaths as the dildo shifted inside of her. The angle was too high, Gideon’s height working against them. The first moments were ungainly, all finding balance and shifting.
Harrow shoved a pillow under her ass hastily, bringing her hips up an extra few inches to meet Gideon. The head of Gideon’s false cock pushed, gently, at Harrow’s entrance.
“This okay?” Gideon met Harrow’s eyes and held herself there, not pushing in any further until she got confirmation.
“Move,” Harrow ordered. “Slowly.”
Gideon did. It was different from just fingers, which was what Harrow was used to. There was a little stretch, though she found she enjoyed the burn more than she expected. She breathed, steady and deep, and then felt the straps of the harness pressing against her as Gideon bottomed out.
“Beloved,” she said, a note of urgency in her voice. “Fuck me. Take me apart.”
Gideon braced herself either side of Harrow’s arms, which were flung up by her head. “I’ll start slow.” Harrow brought a hand to the side of Gideon’s face.
“I love you,” she whispered, so softly that it could have been missed. “I trust you.”
Then there was no more room in her head for thoughts as Gideon’s hips rolled back and snapped forward, power and care in equal measures driving her forward and sinking into Harrow. Both of them full of each other, pushing together, moving like a current.
“Fuck,” Gideon ground out. “Are you feeling this as good as I’m feeling this?”
“Yes,” Harrow managed, and hooked her legs around Gideon’s ass. She opened her legs wider, trying to bring Gideon in, matching her pace. Her hands clenched around Gideon’s back, and she ran her hands down those well-muscled planes, trying to get more of the strange and new feeling inside her.
“Faster,” she ordered. “More.” Gideon made a strangled noise and sweat began to bead in her messy hair and on her brow. “I – I need – “, she moved her hand down to her clit, trying to give herself the stimulation she wanted so desperately.
Gideon, still on her knees, was fully lost in their joint pleasure, mouth open and a flush spreading across her face, eyes half-lidded and heavy. “God, Harrow, God, Harrow,” she chanted, keeping up a rhythm as she crept closer and closer to the edge.
Harrow’s first orgasm took her under like a riptide. “Don’t you dare stop,” she cried, voice breaking on the o’s, and locking her legs around Gideon’s back. Gideon moved through it.
“Darling,” Harrow said helplessly, letting words that she had previously kept inside herself spill forward. “So good to me, so good for me, perfect, my Gideon…” Though Harrow had been the one to orgasm, Gideon was the one to collapse on her forearms with her face on Harrow’s chest, panting, still inside Harrow.
“I want to try something,” Harrow said absently, basking in her afterglow. “Turn over.”
“Just one second,” Gideon gasped. “Dying was bad for my cardio.”
“Mmm,” Harrow said, lenient in her post-orgasm state. After a few more deep breaths, Gideon propped herself up on her forearms and collected herself enough.
“What were you thinking?”
“I want to ride you,” Harrow said boldly. And again: “So turn over.”
“Damn, what is it, my birthday?”
“I’ve got bigger plans for your birthday,” Harrow said. “Don’t worry.” And Gideon pushed herself up off her elbows and lay back, waiting for Harrow.
Harrow sat back on her feet and took her time, running her hand over the toy that had previously been – and would inevitably again be– inside her, jacking it slowly, watching Gideon’s jaw work as the corresponding part moved inside her.
Another strangled, “Harrow,” and in one swift movement, Harrow sank down on the still-wet strap-on, tilting herself to get the best angle, and rolling her hips in little circles. Seizing the moment, she gathered Gideon’s wrists in her hands, leaning down to kiss Gideon’s jaw while moving.
“You’re mine. You inside me, and me inside you.” Gideon was moaning helplessly, and Harrow picked up her pace, loving how they moved like clockwork inside each other.
Gideon was getting closer to her own orgasm. Harrow was on top of her, riding her, her skinny thighs on either side of Gideon’s hips, and her tiny tits bouncing. Gideon strained experimentally against Harrow’s hands, knowing she could break out of the hold if she wanted, but Harrow held firm. The base of the toy moved inside her, blisteringly good, better because she saw what it was doing to Harrow too.
Harrow’s hair fell loosely in her face and that fierce, sharp look was back on her face. Gideon loved it when Harrow focused all her attention on her. It was almost too much and never enough all at once. She felt flayed, but comforted. Harrow moved her other hand to Gideon’s left nipple, twisting in a way that almost anyone else would have found cruel. Gideon found it to be just enough, and Harrow bit down on Gideon’s neck below her jaw and whispered, “Oh, Gideon” and Gideon screamed, overwhelmed. It was so much.
Gideon had not intended for it to end up like this. She had been the one who wanted to take Harrow apart, to fill her up and chase all the dusty cobwebs out of the corners of her mind. But there would be other times, and as Harrow bit down on her neck, she thought, There are worse ways to spend a morning, and came, head pushing against the pillow and shoulders lifting almost completely off the bed.
When she came back to her body, Harrow was still riding her lazily, more for her own slow pleasure than anything else, and had released her wrists.
“Was that good for you?” she asked, rhetorically, though the answer was evident, and Gideon just laughed and moved her arms up Harrow’s slender chest to put her hands over Harrow’s chest, touching Harrow’s nipples just the way she liked, and then Harrow began to ride her in earnest.
Gideon thought that she could watch Harrow ride her forever. She held her core firm so that Harrow would have something to grind against, surging up to meet Harrow, riding out the little flecks of pleasure that scattered inside her, though there was no urgency for Gideon to come again. But Harrow, Harrow was fucking down against Gideon with intent, and for Gideon’s part, she held firm and watched Harrow pick herself apart on Gideon’s cock.
This was where they were meant to be; this was where they were always meant to end up. Harrow on top, bouncing on Gideon’s cock, both inside each other at the same time, the world down to their little bedroom and each other.
With a final snap of her hips and a cry, Harrow came for the second time, back arching. Every time Harrow came, Gideon thought it was the sexiest thing she had ever seen, topped only by the next time she saw Harrow come. It was like a tornado, paring Harrow down to her most base instincts and driving her to cling to Gideon. The last bits of tension in Harrow’s body dissipated, and Gideon watched the haunted, painful parts fall off her face.
“Come here,” Gideon said, opening her arms for Harrow. “I love you. You’re everything.” She had a million compliments, things about how beautiful Harrow was, how perfect, but she was afraid that if she let them out, Harrow would withdraw. It was still so fragile, getting Harrow to see herself how Gideon saw her.
“No,” Harrow said. “You’re everything.” She curled herself carefully into Gideon’s side, resting a possessive hand on her abdomen.
She closed her eyes and gave herself a few minutes to float, snuggled up against Gideon, before checking the clock on the side of their bed.
“It’s early yet,” Gideon said, not bothering to try and wiggle out of the harness. It could come off later.
There were hours yet left in the day, and time besides. They would have to get up later and shower, but for now, Gideon held Harrow and leaned down to kiss her softly, and they got lost in each other again.