"Are you sure?" Draco said, playfully, his lip curling.
                              
"Are you?" Harry countered, his eyebrow raised. He didn't want Draco to feel pressured into doing anything he wasn't ready for. 
                              
"I'm sure... are you?" Draco asked again and massaged Harry's chest, losing some of his confidence. Harry knew that this was about to be one-sided. And it could either hurt Draco or help him.
                              
"I'm yours, Draco," Harry whispered and Draco kissed him. 
                              
"I'll take care of you. Just relax," Draco said, though Harry could tell he was nervous, too.
                              
"You don't have to do this..." Harry felt required to say, even if Draco was the one in complete control of the situation. 
                              
"I know, but I want to. I want to do this... if you're okay with it. I wouldn't want to take advantage of you... after all," Draco said, kissing him and gently ran his fingers through Harry's hair.
                              
"I'm your prisoner, Draco," Harry said, smiling.
                              
Draco was trembling, but didn't waste any more time talking. He began kissing his way down Harry's body, quicker this time. His fingers trailed down his sides, make him giggle, again. Merlin, he hated that he was so ticklish. Dudley had been a real prick growing up because of it. But he realized that he would even think of asking Draco to stop, no matter how much it tickled. He loved it too much. Draco's fingers, once again, rested on his waistband and slid under it. He glanced up worriedly at Harry. Harry tried to relay that it was fine, before giving a single nod. He was trying not to shake. 
                              
Draco smirked and scooted off Harry's lap, down his legs more, giving Harry his knees back, but not much. Draco admired Harry's tented boxers and hesitantly set his hand on top of it. Bolts of electricity shot through him as Draco playfully squeezed the tip. Fuck, shit, hell, fuck... Harry thought, as nothing but expletives shot through his head. He really needed to learn better words as Draco moved his hand and slowly pulled his boxers further down his waist. He stopped when he reached the mattress.
                              
"Lift up, darling," Draco whispered.
                              
Harry forgot how to breathe... and apparently how to use his muscles. After some mental restructuring, he managed to put weight on his shoulders and flex his hips upward. Draco slid his boxers from under his butt and down enough that Harry's dick sprung upward, finally free of all restraint. He was embarrassed slightly, being essentially on display, but Draco didn't hesitate to run his finger along the side of his dick. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. He was shaking and there was no hiding how aroused he was as precum juices gushed out of his tip.
                              
"Okay, there?" Draco asked playfully.
                              
Harry's throat was empty. His jaw clenched shut, permanently it seemed. Say something, damnit! he told himself. He nodded jerkily, unable to do anything else. Draco chuckled, but suddenly looked scared. He was taking a big step right now, they both knew it. Harry made some concerned grunting noises, trying to stop him, but Draco shook his head.
                              
"I'm fine... just don't...."
                              
Don't? Don't what? Harry wanted to ask, but his jaw wasn't going to move that easy. He watched in amazement as Draco lowered his head. Oh fuck! he screamed internally. It was going to happen. Draco really was... fuck. Harry's ability to form coherent thoughts was gone as Draco's pink lips slipped around his head. He nearly came right then and there, but held it back, because that would be embarrassing. Draco moved down and smooth, silky warmness covered more of his cock. Harry's body was on fire and he struggled to breathe. Draco took it more, more than Harry thought possible could fit. 
                              
Suddenly, without warning, Draco started to suck, creating more pressure. His lips moved gently along his shaft, bobbing almost, and his tongue... his tongue swirled along the underside. Harry moaned shamelessly under Draco's tongue-action. It took everything to stop himself from thrusting into Draco's mouth, a visceral need driving him. But Harry knew he couldn't do it. Draco wasn't expecting it. The 'don't' before they started might have been... don't do that. Harry just pulled on his restraints as an anchor to keep him from completing that action.