It's dirty words like that, that drive Harry to that same place of erratic pleasure. He groans and bucks his hips. He's not entirely in control anymore, but it's a safe loss. He trusts Neil and besides, he's giving in to pleasure, not anger.

He leaves Neil to take care of himself and puts one hand on the boy's cheek, and turns his face to kiss him. While wrapped in that kiss, the hand possessively settles on his neck, fingers over his throat.