Authors Note: Man oh man has it been a while. I've really appreciated the reviews I've been getting, and I thought you all deserved a little fanservice. It's a tad graphic, so fair warning. I was quite amused with myself when I finished it, and I'm a little proud: this is the first of its kind that I have written, and some reviews would be much appreciated.
"Loosen up a bit, won't ya?" He smiled so widely down at her, as if it was totally normal to have a knife held tight to her throat. Yeah. Loosen up. With a knife only moments away from her vitals. He was shrugging his shoulders in a demonstrative sort of way. She let out a nervous burst of giggles, teeth bared in a primal, defensive manner. It was a twisted sort of smile.
She was laying on her back on the bed and he was looming over her, resting almost casually on one arm, while one leg was draped across her body. His hand was gingerly holding his signature switchblade to her throat. His smile could be seen even without the lights on. His greasepaint glowed in the moonlight and streetlamp lights that poured in through the poorly boarded windows.
She was defenseless beneath him. Her slinky one-piece harlequin suit had been abandoned in the corner of the room, along with her cowl, and she was left with nothing more than her underthings to cover her. Her mother had always warned her of the dangers of boys and alcohol, but she had never really understood what was meant until this moment. Liquor had caused her clothes to be lost in some silly striptease. She wanted this to be so special between the two of them tonight. Their first night truly alone together. She had practiced it in the mirror briefly in the bathroom before emerging and doing her best to arouse him.
He had simply sat with patience in an arm chair, one leg thrown precariously over the arm of the seat, and observed. He had removed his suit coat and was lounging in his finely tailored blouse and vest, with his suspenders peaking out on his shoulders. No emotions crossed his face other than amusement. But she wasn't sure if it was the right kind of amusement, or if it was the face she would soon grow accustomed to: the face that told her she was acting like a stupid girl again and to knock it off before he knocked it out of her. Hidden beneath that smile was a glint of something- something new and scary. He was liking what he saw.
She was dancing about, hips wiggling and hands roaming in an oh-so-suggestive manner. She was pulling her sleeves from her body and twirling slowly as the bodysuit was tantalizingly peeled away from her bare skin. She had hardly pulled her feet through the bottom of it when he leaned forward in his chair, catching her attention. She had paused, smiling at him, only to be greeted by his large hands grasping her shoulders and pushing her down onto the bed. His rough foreplay had been alluded to before. She had been pinned by him in her office on multiple occasions.
But this wasn't quite the same.
His hands pushed roughly, dragging across her chest and pulling at her bra. His teeth met her skin next, biting at the soft parts, drawing little pin-pricks of blood. She was slightly stunned beneath him, but welcomed his twisted affection, pulling him closer with her small hands. They snaked their way into his hair, down his neck, on his shoulders. She wanted him closer to her.
He growled into her neck and pushed his whole body against her. She could feel his muscles move beneath her hands. He felt powerful above her, like he could move the world if he wanted. And she felt defenseless, but unafraid. That was, until something cold and sharp found its way to her abdomen.
She let out a gasp of surprise and her lips were met by his large hand. Her whole head was pushed into the bed by his strength. He had pulled his knife from his pocket and was tracing a slow line from just below her ribcage to her pelvis. She squirmed, trying to move out of the way of his blade, only to be shushed and comforted. He was watching where the blade went, careful not to actually cut her, just scare her.
She couldn't see the blade, though, with her head effectively pinned to the bed. She was convinced she was being filleted, and let out a small shriek of terror: a quiet, strangled sound. He looked up suddenly and smiled politely at her.
"No need to be so… worried, doll." He cooed, nipping at her neck again, but only briefly. He flicked the knife on her hipbone and felt her tense under him. It made his smile widen. He giggled quietly at her next panicked scream and brought himself onto his knees, straddling her, and sat up straight, letting his knife drift up to her neck, which was now sporting smudges of black, white, and red greasepaint.
He surveyed her from up here, peering down his nose at her. His hand was not longer over her mouth, and she looked up at him, worry and terror reading easily across her face. He smiled wider, amused by her predicament.
His knife, which he was still affectionately holding in his hand, slowly, carefully, ran down her neck, following the flow of her blood in her veins. She didn't move for fear of dying.
He leaned down close to her face, his painted smile horrifying to look up to, and gently pressed his lips to the tip of her nose, leaving a little red dot when he pulled away, and pressed the flat side of the knife against her stomach. He pushed hard against it, eliciting another sound of terror from her.
"You know, this is going to be fun." He growled it to her, barely even parting his teeth, his face still hovering just moments away from hers. "You, all shaky and weeeeeeak…" he was being a little patronizing now, "And me…" he smiled, leaning away and motioning to himself with his free hand, "… calling all the shots."
He rolled off of her and onto his side, draping one leg over her body, and letting his knife roll back towards her neck.
"Loosen up a bit, won't ya?" He shrugged his shoulders to show her how, as if simply moving around a little would release the hysteria building in her stomach. Her nervous giggles followed, terrified of what would happen to her.
"I mean, you're taking this all so seriously." His voice was high, comforting almost. "This is just all in good fun, right?" He leaned in close, voice dropping to a rumble-y whisper. "I want you to be having fun, you know. Really I do." He pet her hair away from her face with the back of his hand, the knife still being held lightly between his fingers. "Let's play a game, hmm?"
He sat up, and scooted back from her, motioning for her to follow him. There was a moment, before she gathered the courage to sit up herself, that he simply looked at her, his eyes burning. He liked what he saw spread out on the bed, shaking slightly from fear, bearing the marks of his affection: the paint and blood, the scrape-marks and soon-to-be bruises.
"Let's say a lovely lady came into your room, hypothetically, and shared a couple drinks with you after a long night of breaking out of prison and robbing stores for suitable clothes, hmm?" His voice drifted up and down in pitch, soft and almost lulling to hear. She slowly sat up as he spoke, never taking her eyes from him or his knife, her shoulders tense and her eyes wide.
"And let's say you wanted nothing more than to be left alone for a couple of moments to unwiiind and thiiiiink…" he was twirling his knife slightly now. "And this… lovely lady couldn't take the hint to leave and, instead, started to undress." His voice was becoming less and less pleasant as each word passed.
"Now, hypothetically, wouldn't you just want to do nothing more than to beat the silliness out of that lady?" The annoyance and tension could be heard in his voice now, and he tightened his grip on the knife, bringing it back to her neck.
"So here's the game: What would you do. In. this. Situation?" He was glaring at her, having moved to hover over her again in a threatening manner.
She wasn't sure what to say back to him, but knew he wanted a response and that she would probably be forced to stitch her own neck back together if she didn't answer.
Slowly, she opened her mouth to respond. He cut her off, throwing her back down on the bed and climbing on her again, straddling her and pressing the knife against her throat viciously.
"I would tell that lady she better get her skanky ass out of there before she loses those pretty little eyes. Got it?" His voice was controlled until the last two words, which were said, through gritted teeth, into her ear.
She nodded quickly and started to sit up, trying to push past him. He stood strong for a moment and the slowly let her up, twisting to sit normally on the bed to watch her leave. She snatched up her suit and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.
She had locked herself in the bathroom. They had only gotten the one room for the night. Shaking, and terrified, she took the two small bath towels and climbed into the bathtub, using the towels as blankets and curled up.
So much for making this night special. She would have to learn very fast that she never got to call the shots, especially when it came to their sex life. She could do all the strip-teases she liked, but the second that monster of a man felt he was being pressured into a decision, he chose the exact opposite path just to be spiteful.
Or at least, that's what she thought until the bathroom door was sent into a whirlwind of splinters as he crashed through it.
She jumped up in surprise, and saw him, wild like an animal, in the doorway. He was wearing the same amount of clothes, but seemed primal in a naked sort of way.
"I wanna hear you say my name." he said to her as he pulled her from the tub by her wrists; as he dragged her to the bed and threw her; as he climbed on top of her and pushed her down under himself; as he cut her bra from her chest and gripped her breast firmly in his hand; as he ripped her panties from her hips and dragged his fingertips across her skin; as he snarled into her ear the same words over and over, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling hard.
Her chin rose into the air. She was trying desperately to escape the pain at the back of her head from his hands. He spread her legs and settled himself between them, still fully clothed, and pushed hard with his pelvis. She heard him sigh quietly and looked just in time to catch his eyes rolling backwards. He was enjoying this.
She knew he wouldn't be gentle and that this was going to happen whether or not she really wanted it to. He was going to have his way, she was sure. She reached her small hands towards his shirt and gently unbuttoned one of his buttons. She loosened his tie and was tugging at his vest before he noticed what she was doing.
He paused, curious, almost, of what she was doing. His vest was fully unbuttoned by the time it really struck him she was trying to help. He let her slip the garment from his shoulders and let her pull the suspenders from his shoulders. She was untucking his shirt from his pants when he snatched her wrists. He pushed them lower, towards himself.
She was surprised, startled, and even a little embarrassed by this. The liquor had worn off by now and it struck her just how innocent and naive she really was. Just how virginal she really was. She felt cheated and unprepared for this moment, as if all of the school-yard style teasings had meant to teach her something: that she was a little girl playing with the big boys.
He guided her hands towards the zipper, which she undid obligingly, pulling both layers of clothing down from his hips and gripped him gently. He leaned down against her, resting his head against her shoulder, and pushed into her
She tensed and then relaxed, only to be stunned by his large hand clamping down around her throat. He choked her until she saw black creeping into the corners of her vision. He let her go then, twisting a fistful of her hair viciously and turning her face up again. He leaned his face further into her shoulder, biting down on her flesh as he moved.
She made a sound that resembled choking: a strangled pleasured noise.
"I want you hear you say my name." He repeated, taking another piece of her skin between his teeth and biting. She screamed when he bit down, feeling the heat rise around the wound, knowing for sure there was blood. He licked at her, licked his lips, moved harder against her.
It occurred to her in that moment, she didn't truly know his name. She felt her face flush. She panicked, not knowing what to say, if she should even say anything at all. He growled, yanking her hair and caused her to whine.
"Say it!"
"I—I don't…"
He moved against her more, pressing his hips roughly into her own, before stopping abruptly, breathing heavily. He pushed himself up away from her, looking down at her with fury in his eyes, his greasepaint having been smeared into a blurry mess.
"You… you don't know my name?"
He let out a cackle, baring his teeth in a smile and buried his face into her shoulder again. Of course she didn't know his name. He knew that. He'd be stupid to think she did. But she didn't know that. She didn't know she wasn't supposed to know his name. It was a sick joke. Leave it to him to ruin what should have been the start to their escapades together.
He continued to giggle, snicker, laugh at her as he pulled away, rolled onto his back and punched her arm in a "playful" manner. She laid there, stunned and naked, staring at the ceiling. She let the hit move her to the side and tried hard to keep the tears from coming. She could feel them burning in her eyes, her face growing hot from embarrassment. She felt so stupid. She should have known he would pull something like this: Like replacing the milk in her cereal with cream of mushroom soup.
She moved her arms to cross over her chest and cover herself. He was still rolling with glee at the joke he just finished. His laughter continued as he reached a hand towards her, hoisting himself onto all fours and crawling towards her.
"You shoulda seen the look on your face!" he growled, still pleased with himself, looming closer and closer to her naked body. "It was priceless." He leaned towards her, placing a biting kiss to the wound on her shoulder. She sucked in a sharp breath from the sting, and turned her face from him, feeling stupid for having tried anything at all with him.
He continued to kiss at her wound, his one hand snaking to find bruises, so as to push a thumb into it and hear her whimper. He nipped at her, crawling over top of her and settling himself there. His mouth traveled down her neck, towards her chest, to her stomach. He hovered above her belly button before looking up at her. He balanced himself on his knees and reached his hands to unwrap her arms from her body, no longer allowing her to cover herself.
"Harley…" he cooed, growling her name just the way she liked it. Rough, deep, gravely almost. Said with such wanting and control. "Don't you want to play?"
She was frowning slightly, still not having looked down at him. She was ashamed of herself. He cooed her name again, letting his hand run down her body, slowly, tantalizingly. It swirled around her stomach, towards her hip, lower still until he saw her muscles relax beneath his touch, and looked up in time to catch her eyes rolling back and her mouth parting ever so slightly. She was moving into his touch, against his hand, wanting him to the point it ached. He teased her still, his smile growing wide as he watched her writhe beneath his hands.
It was always just a joy to play with his new favorite toy, however he pleased.