Chapter One
She wondered how she arrived at this point in her life. She remembered and forgot quite frequently. and even her past had started to become a blur in her head. Slowly, she started to forget her previous life as the madness of her current state consumed her. Slowly, she began to forget who she was, everyone she cared for, what made her unique as a person. She could only clearly remember meeting him, the reason for her madness. The one who changed her life. The one who caused her to leave and forget who she was.
Now she was Harley Quinn, and whoever she was before was gone. And as she sat on the cold leathers of the Lamborghini she passengered in, she looked at the reason for her madness with wide eyes and a quiver to her red lips. She felt her heart race as she stared at him, felt desire and fear simultaneously dwell within her. Her thoughts mixed with the sound of the obnoxious revving of the vehicle, as well as the pounding of her heart and the shallowness of her breath.
For a moment, he took his eyes off the road and met her gaze, in which a grin tugged at his deep crimson lips, his eyes narrowing hypnotically as he met her fascinated gaze.
"Are you afraid?" He simply asked, his voice low and coarse. The blue in his irises glistened, the shadows of the night enhancing his beautiful jawline.
Harley giggled, repositioning herself on her seat, leaning herself forward a bit in hopes to appear more sexy.
"No Mistah Jay," she said merrily, as her heart continued to race. "I just never been to a place like this before, ya know? And now everyone will know I'm ya girl."
He chuckled deeply as he returned his gaze to the road, continuing to laugh, a little more profoundly now. His pale hands gripped harder on the steering wheel. He gave her another quick glance.
"You think you're my girl?"
She blushed, looking down at herself now, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her short black dress. She didn't know how to respond at first, but quickly she looked back up at him, her mouth torn between a frown and a smile.
"Well, ain't I?"
He laughed again, not even bothering to look at her. Instead he left his hand wander to her cheek as he pinched her a little too hard to be affectionate. Her lips parted at the gesture. His hand was cold and pale, and from her face he allowed his touch to roam down her neck, over her breast, stomach, until he rested on the bare skin of her thigh. Roughly, her squeezed her.
"Baby, you'll soon see your place in this world."
She flinched at the sudden touch. His hand remained on her, and nervously she placed her hand over his and pushed down so he could squeeze her once more.
He turned his neck sharply and gave her a look, one she could not read. She returned an innocent glance, batting her thick lashes, pressing her lips together.
He dug his fingers harder into her skin, causing her pain, but she dared not say anything. His eyes returned back to the road.
"Be careful Harley," he warned her quietly. "Daddy doesn't like to be teased." He then grinned madly, yanking his hand away from her. Harley gasped lightly at the loss of contact.
She remained silent as she gazed out the window and soon found herself sinking in her seat. He had slowed down his manic driving, and she saw a building with bright lights that beamed "Assets" in pink neon.
Without thinking she blurted out, "Are there naked ladies in there?"
Before she could have time to regret her words she was answered with a dramatic laugh. She snapped her neck towards him nervously.
Stopping the car in front of the building, he gazed at her. His green hair shone gently in the moonlight. His eyes were dark, a smile painted on his lips. She followed the handsome curve of his shoulders, his violet shirt unbuttoned obnoxiously down his chest.
"No," he answered bluntly. The smile then left his face as he unlocked the doors, Harley jumping a bit at the sound.
"But I'm thinking I'll see at least one tonight." And then he winked at her, and a heaviness filled her chest.
She giggled nervously as he turned off the engine, and there she could hear the raucous going on outside. As he stepped out the car she took a moment to take in a few deep breaths, until he arrived at her side and opened the door for her.
"After you, doll face," he beamed, dramatically extending his arm to signal her exit. Clutching her bag, she stepped out the car, needing a moment to balance on her heels and pull down her dress. It hugged her body painfully tight, a feeling she was not used to with clothing. He didn't hesitate to take her hand, leading her forward before he caught a glimpse of a familiar face.
He whistled, placing his fingers in his mouth. "Jonny!" he screeched, and the main immediately took head of the command. He approached the pair quickly, as if he had been waiting for them.
Harley smiled at him, as he seemed tired yet alert, the beard on his face scruffy.
The Joker threw him his keys, and he caught them in both hands.
"Park the car in the back, don't let the cops see you." And he winked while Jonny nodded in obedience.
"Yea boss, no problem."
As he scurried towards the car, the Joker returned his gaze down at Harley, his grip on her hand tightening.
"You ready to party like a gangster?"
He stared at him, fear and excitement building in her belly. She could hear the music from inside the building. She felt the storm of people coming in and out and the commotion that came with it. She saw beautiful women, well dressed men. She heard laughter and yelling simultaneously. And as he waited for her answer, his eyes burned through her.
"Yes, Puddin'," she replied, and with that he grinned at her.
As they made their way inside, she continued to wonder how she got here, trying to remember. What led to this moment? How she had arrived with bleached skin and the ends of her blonde hair colored pink and blue. How she was under the embrace of the most feared man in Gotham city.
She wondered how she had fallen madly in love with him. And again how she ended up here, slowly forgetting who she was.
~oOo~
The seduction began with their first session. She didn't realize it, but he knew what he was doing.
She remembered the way he looked at her, solemnly, his sunken eyes bleeding into her soul. And from the first session she felt uncomfortable, in a way she couldn't understand. She felt something strange, something magnificent, and something horrible.
The room was a dull grey, from the table that separated them to the walls. He sat across from her in a straight jacket, as she held her notebook and pen timidly. Using her knuckles to adjust her glasses, she cleared her throat, returning his gaze. Without realizing it, she began to click her heels nervously on the ground, the sound disturbing the silence of the room.
"Mr. Joker," she spoke in a clean, calm manner, "We've been in here 20 minutes and you have barely said a word to me. This is your intake session. You haven't answered any of my questions. I need to know your history before I can begin treating you."
He had sat hunched, but at her words he smiled and leaned himself back against his seat.
"I have no history, doc," he spoke softly yet solemnly. "I ain't got any answers for you. So maybe we can skip the intake and you can start treating me."
He winked at her. Oddly, she blushed and crossed her legs skittishly.
"Mr. Joker, everybody has a history. We can begin by telling me your real name." She held her notebook and pen attentively, as if expecting him to answer her.
"You know my name, toots," he beamed, glaring at her with a lift of his naked brow bone. "I'm the Joker. But you can call me whatever you want." Again he winked at her. She squirmed in her seat.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop doing that."
"Doing what?" He feigned innocence.
She was about to retort but quickly shook her head. Placing her notebook and pencil down, she leaned forward onto the table, clasping her hands together and did what she would eventually regret doing and looked him directly in his eyes.
Maybe this was where her madness slowly started to begin. The way he looked at her...his soul stabbing gaze. It was entrancing, horrifying, yet addicting. For a long moment, she found herself lost in his eyes, and he knew very well what he was doing to her.
She tried to force herself out of her trance. "Do you even remember your real name?"
A tiny smirk curved at the corner of his dark mouth. "Honestly, babe, I can tell you a million stories I've conjured up over the years about my past life. Not sure which version is true. Twenty years of this life, you forget who you were. I only know who I am now."
"And who is that?" she asked him, a bit intrigued.
He leaned forward as did she. Though the table separated them, she could faintly feel his hot breath touching her face.
"I'm the king of Gotham," he gleamed.
"The King of Gotham? Do you have any other delusions you'd like to share?"
The Joker laughed slowly yet high pitched, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.
"Oh Dr. Quinzel," he gleamed. She could see his arms stiffen underneath the straight jacket. "I ain't delusional. You know it, the whole God damn city knows it."
She placed her pen at her lips, tapping it lightly. "I don't see a king," she noted. "I see a ruthless gangster."
He stopped laughing and opened his eyes, gawking at her.
"But I see a lost soul inside you, and I believe I can help you if you let me."
She could hear him breath deeply, a growl rumbling in his throat.
"You wanna help me?" he asked, and for a moment she thought he was almost sincere.
"Yes, I truly do. But I need you to talk with me. We have to get through this intake session before anything."
She paused, finding his eyes again. "So please, tell me your name."
He breathed heavily through his nostrils. "I'm the Joker, baby. And that's all you need to know."
~oOo~
Though she was finding it harder and harder to remember her previous life, she knew it was a sheltered one. This environment was absolutely new to her, from the multitude of colored lights to the smell of expensive cologne and alcohol. As the Joker led her to to a more private area, she watched women in bikinis dancing on tables, Despite stares from men, they were mostly ignored as the multitude of people drunkenly danced to the loud hip hop music that consumed the building.
Harley frowned. "Puddin, I thought you said there'd be no naked ladies here."
He didn't answer her but squeezed her hand, resulting in a flinch from her.
They arrived at a private booth behind a curtain of beads. However, they were not alone.
The booth was small, adorned with a glass table surrounded by black leather couches. Two men sat together. Both young, white, and handsome. They were dressed well, with pressed black pants and matching black blazers. Harley assumed they were henchmen of the Joker, as they immediately stood up simultaneously at his presence.
They seemed strange to her, as they stood up sloppily, wiping their noses and their eyes. The Joker laughed at them however, dragging Harley to a couch opposite from them and sitting down. Carefully, she sat down beside him.
"Boys, sit your fucking asses down," he ordered, in a tone that sounded playful yet deadly. A grin consumed his face. They obeyed his command and resumed to their seats. Harley watched them carefully, her eyes then scanning the table to see a line of white powder neatly piled.
She gulped, quickly removing her eyes.
"Gentlemen, this is Harley Quinn," Joker suddenly announced, as if sensing her unease. With those words, he laced an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him.
"She's my new sidekick. She's the Robin to my Batman."
And immediately hysterical laughter erupted from his throat, and his henchmen joined in carefully. As he bellowed, the Joker pulled Harley closer to him, to where her thigh was pinned against his.
"Harley, this is Hunter and the fine gentleman next to him is Drake."
Each man extended their hand to greet her, but Joker shot them a deadly glare. Swiftly they put their arms down.
"Nice to meet you Miss Harley," spoke Hunter carefully. Drake nodded, "Yea J had told us a lot about you."
Another soul crushing glance from the Joker this time directed at Drake. Harley squirmed in her seat.
"What do you want to drink, Harls? Drake will get it for you since he knows so much about you."
Harley laughed nervously, shaking her head. "No, I'm alright Puddin. I'm not much of a drinker."
"If you're gona hang with me you will become a hell of a drinker," he snapped, narrowing his gaze at her.
"Vodka tonic." Shes spoke almost immediately. There was a short silence for a moment.
"Drake, you heard the girl. Get your ass up and get her a vodka tonic."
Immediately Drake stood up, almost losing his balance. "Yes, Boss," he beamed as he stumbled out of the private booth.
Joker grunted heavily, pursing his lips. He eyed Hunter, raising his brow bones.
"You goons decide to get high off your fuckin minds before I even arrive? Is this what I pay you for?"
A bead of sweat formed on Hunter's forehead, all eyes on the untouched line of the table.
"Sorry boss, we-"
"Harley, take a hit."
The girl froze. All muscles tightened on her body. She could feel J's breath hit her naked shoulder. She met his gaze. He wasn't smiling.
"A hit of what, Puddin?" she asked innocently.
Another smile engulfed his face. Slowly, he cupped her chin and pressed his nose against hers.
"Don't act dumb. Let me guess, your not much of a druggie either huh?"
Harley chuckled nervously. "I've never done it before," she confessed softly.
"Tonight yer going to do a quite a few things you never done before."
She felt her groin contract at his words, a hot heaviness filling her chest. Forgetting they were not alone, she closed the gap between them and kissed his mouth.
He pulled away from her, the paint on his mouth smeared down his chin. She couldn't tell if he was pissed or excited.
"Take a hit," he ordered again. This time he grabbed her chin and kissed her, very harshly, until he pushed her off of him.
Her breaths were heavy now, and she turned to look at Hunter who sat hunched forward. He blinked frequently as he watched.
Slowly Harley stood up and made her way towards Hunter. He scooted over and she knelt on the carpeted floor, feeling the friction on her knees. Staring at the white powder on the table, she moved her gaze briefly to J. He saw the fear in her and smiled.
"I'm not sure how to..." she trailed off.
"Here's your vodka, Miss Harley."
She felt a short moment of relief as Drake stumbled back into the booth, holding the glass. The moisture of the cold drink made his hand damp.
He saw Harley at his spot and frowned.
"She's taking the last line?"
"Yes," Joker shot back harshly, making himself more comfortable as he sloppily crossed his leg and leaned back against the seat. "You got a problem with that?"
Drake shook his head obediently. "No, Boss, of course not." He handed Harley her drink across the table. She nodded in gratitude.
Slowly she drank from the glass, taking her time. Removing her lips from the drink, her eyes squinted as her face squirmed from the strong taste of the vodka. She caught the intense gaze of the Joker, who seemed to be marvelously enjoying this.
"Drake," he ordered, "Go show Harley how it's done."
The man sat beside her now, and she looked at him with trepidation.
He demonstrated the movement to her, in which Joker chortled, his laughter erupting now.
Harley didn't know how to feel. Was this a joke to him? She furrowed her brows at his hysteria, slamming her hands down on the glass. Quickly, the Joker stopped laughing, narrowing his eyes to stare at her. She watched his demeanor change as she repositioned herself on the ground, pushing her chest forward, pieces of blonde and blue locks falling in front of her face.
He watched her with intrigue now, and she could see his chest stiffen underneath his shirt, the gold chains he wore glistening under the dim blue lights.
Her eyes never leaving his, she lowered her face onto the table, her heart palpitating, lips quivering. And in one swift motion, she did exactly as Drake showed her, inhaling the white powder and immediately throwing herself back, her head hitting the couch behind her.
Silence consumed for several dreadful moments as Harley remained in her position, head spinning. She felt a spike in her chest, her eyes opening widely. Blinking repeatedly, she tried to get control of her current state, but was unable to. Instead she reached for her glass of vodka tonic and drank - no gulped down the rest of the drink in seconds. She threw the glass down to the floor. And then, as she threw her head back, she burst out laughing.
Nothing made sense, and it didn't matter. The room was still spinning but it felt wonderful, like she was on a ride at a carnival. Harley tried to stand up but just fell back down, remaining in her blissful hysteria.
"Boss, is she alright?" Hunter asked quietly, as the two men next to her watched in horror.
Joker smiled however, clasping his hands together and resting his chin there. "Oh, she is perfectly alright."
When Jonny entered the booth holding the keys to the Lamborghini, he paused for a moment, staring at the girl who sat messily on the floor, giggling madly.
"Frost, help the lady up and bring her to me."
The look of confusion never leaving his face, he went over to Harley, extending his arms to help her up. But then she stopped laughing and slapped him across the face. Jonny was taken a back, staring down at her with a raised brow.
"Get your hands off of me, only Mistah J can touch me," she squealed, and then looked at the Joker, her eyes glistening with seduction.
"If ya want me to come back there Puddin you have to come get me yourself."
Now she laid herself down on the floor. Extending her arms and legs to elongate herself. "I'm waitin!" She began to laugh again.
All three henchman just stared at her now, finding her to be almost as crazy as their boss himself.
"This is ridiculous," Jonny mumbled, taking a seat next to Drake.
The Joker leaned forward in his seat, collecting himself before he stood and carefully walked over to Harley. Kneeling before her face, he smiled softly at her. She blew a kiss to him.
"Get up, Harley."
She laughed. "Make me."
She twiddled her fingers, inviting him to pick her up. Instead he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her up.
He continued to smile at her, gripping her shoulders more firmly, pressing down at her skin painfully.
Then, with one swift movement, he slapped her across her cheek.
Her head was spinning madly, she couldn't comprehend what was happening. She could only continue to laugh.
He returned the gesture to her other cheek, slapping her harder. His henchmen watched in silence, the sound of Harley's laugh consuming the room.
Pulling her up off the ground, he dragged her back to the couch, throwing her down and resuming his seat. She sat next to him smiling, both her cheeks burning a crimson red. Her hair was thrown all about her face, her dress started to slip down her chest.
Scooting herself closer to the Joker, she entangled her arms around his waist, pressing her mouth against his neck.
"Mistah J, I want another drink," she cooed. At his naked flesh she brought out her tongue and licked him slowly. His skin was cold, and her sudden warmth made him flinch.
He allowed her to touch him for a while, as her licks became kisses and her kisses became sucking. A quiet deep chuckle remained trapped in his throat, his hand finding her thigh again. This time he coyly crept up her dress.
She continued to suck on his neck, laughing in her mind. The music was so loud, and J's neck tasted so good and she didn't know why. At that moment she didn't know who she was, but knew who she was with. Tonight she saw a real glimpse of her new life and what it entailed.
~oOo~
"Joker, in the few sessions we've had I've heard about three different stories about your childhood."
Dr. Quinzel's statement was bleak, her palm rubbing at her forehead in exhaustion. She looked at her patient across from her, who could only shrug innocently in response.
"I've heard your father beat you. I've heard your father left when you were an infant. I've heard your mother gave you up to the circus at birth." She sighed, shaking her head. "I've had enough with the jokes. I need you to start telling me something factual."
The Joker just grinned, highly amused with himself. "I told you, toots, first time we met. I don't remember that life. It's history."
"Well if you don't remember who you were, can you at least tell me how you became who you are now?"
He eyed her carefully, not sure how to respond to her proposal.
"That's really private, doc," he said quietly. "I'm not sure if I want to share something like that with someone I barely know."
"I'm your doctor," she retorted, trying to give him some sort of comfort. "I care about your betterment."
"What about you tell me a little about yourself first? Maybe I'd feel more comfortable then."
He smiled, but she was not pleased.
"There is no reason for that, Mr. Joker."
"Do you have a boyfriend, husband, a family?" He was persistent.
"No," she answered quickly and bluntly, then sat back in her chair, angry at herself for answering.
"Hard to believe a hot dame like you don't got a boyfriend," he replied, grinning at her, exposing his grill. She found herself blushing at his comment.
"My personal life is not relevant here."
"If you were my gal, I'd take real good care of ya. Show you a life you could never imagine."
She took his flirtation as a chance to find out more about him. "Oh really, and what kind of life is that?" Leaning her elbow on the table, she rested her cheek against her palm.
"Money. Power." He paused, narrowing his gaze at her, as if to seduce her. "Ecstasy."
The single word sent a chill down her spine.
"Is...is that what life is about to you? Power, money, and sex? Is that why you chose this life of crime?" She prepared her pen and notebook, ready to write down his response.
"I didn't choose this life, babe. It chose me." Again, he grinned.
"Very cliche answer Mr. Joker. Tell me how this life chose you?"
He sighed, sitting himself back against the chair, looking down at his restraints.
"It's a very endearing story actually," he chuckled. "It involves a young man, a Bat, and a dip into a bath of acid."
Dr. Quinzel was intrigued, as she found herself putting down her notebook and pen. "I would like to hear that story."
Their eyes met and locked. She could feel the danger that emitted from him, and yet there was a glimpse of longing in his eyes. And she feared she may have returned it in her own gaze.
"Better yet, maybe one day I can show you."
He winked at her slowly, another grin consuming his entire face.
~oOo~
It was a night she could never forget or ever remember. Her head was spinning the entire evening. It was a tumultuous mix of music, colors, and laughter. She wasn't sure but the Joker may have shot someone during the night.
She couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to her, but the effects of the drugs and alcohol carefully began to dim around four in the morning, when the Joker brought her back to their hideout.
It had only been a few days since her life forever changed. When she left the past life she was slowly forgetting. She still was not so certain where his hideout was, though she stared out the window on all of their trips, he took several unexpected turns, made sure even she didn't know where they were and how they got there.
It looked like an abandoned building, but she knew inside it was gorgeous. Like the rich life he had promised her. He parked the car behind the building, and there they sat for a moment, finally to the sound of pure silence. Carefully, J turned his neck to look at Harley, who had been staring at him intensely.
This may have been the moment where her head stopped spinning. She felt a serenity capture her. She took in all of his features, from his handsome angular jaw, to the depth of his deep blue eyes. She noticed the mark she left on his neck. Her eyes traveled down to his partly exposed chest, observing the tattoos that peeked out. Slowly she returned her eyes back to his face, his glare burning through her.
Their breathing was no longer silent, and J reached out to touch her face, still red from his earlier roughness. His touch slid down from her cheek to her neck, down her collar bone until he grasped the top of her dress, as if he were to pull it down.
Instead, he pulled her close to him, their faces inches apart. Harley half closed her eyes.
"Get out the car."
He pushed her back grimly, and she remained silent as he opened the car door and slammed it shut.
Hastily, she exited the vehicle and began to follow him.
The darkness of the night consumed the area, and nervously she followed behind the Joker as he didn't bother to wait for her. They entered the building from the back, traveling down the stairs to the basement. It was dark and quiet until he flipped on the lights, revealing the beautifully decorated apartment.
Though she had seen it before, the last few days had been such madness she had not the chance to fully take in her surroundings. It was magnificent, with a beautiful hardwood floor and grand expensive furnishings.
He didn't even look at her as he grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom.
He was still cold, his fingers interlacing with hers. Oddly, his touch this time was gentle, and she felt her heart beat quicken as they entered the dark room. With a flick of his finger, he turned on the light, revealing a well made bed with satin purple and red sheets, a large television placed in front. The floor was carpeted red, and their footsteps were silent as they entered.
Here, J detached his hand from hers, unbuttoning his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom that connected to the bedroom.
She heard the sound of the sink running, and slowly she sat herself down on the edge of the bed, removing her shoes and pressing her knees together. She knew what was going to happen, and the thought both terrified and excited her. When she heard the abrupt stop of the running water in the other room, her breathing quickened, a heaviness filling her chest.
He reentered shirtless, holding a towel against his face as he matted it against the remaining droplets. His face was bare, yet his lips were still dark as well as the area under his eyes.
He looked down at her, while her eyes widened towards him.
"Why don't you go freshen up for Daddy," he spoke lowly, then threw the towel at her.
She caught it clumsily, nodding as she stood up and walked towards the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind her she dropped the towel and grasped the sink, staring at her bewildered, breathless expression in the mirror. Her face was a mess, red lipstick smeared past her lips, her eye makeup fading messily. Sweat formed around her forehead, the droplets traveling down her temples to her cheeks. She began to breath heavily, unable to exhale. Attempting to calm herself, Harley ran her finger through her hair, moving any strands away from her face. Turning on the sink, she began to hastily splash cold water onto her face, rubbing at her eyes and lips. The heavier the feeling in her chest grew, the more frenzied she threw the water onto her skin. Her knees where shaking now. And somehow, for some reason, she wanted to laugh. To laugh like she did in the nightclub earlier. However, she kept the sensation stifled in her throat.
She looked at herself in the mirror again. Her face was soaked and most of the makeup was removed. Grabbing the towel from the floor, she wiped the wetness from her skin, taking one final look at herself in the mirror. She dropped the towel and and with a shallow breath she opened the door.
When she reentered the bedroom, she saw he wasn't there, instead she could hear his muffled voice outside of the room.
"What do you mean the cops were there? How soon after we left?"
Harley sat at the edge of the bed, listening to him speak. She assumed he was on the phone.
"Drake, you better make fucking sure no damn fucking cop suspects a thing do you hear me? I put you goons there to keep the clients in check. I don't want no damn cops showing up again."
Though he tried to remain hushed, she could hear the ruthless anger in his voice.
"Oh and if I catch ya eyeing my girl again I will fucking shoot you in the groin, understood?"
She half smiled, strangely.
"Don't give me your bullshit you hear me? Now do your fucking job and control that place."
Harley grasped the sheets as the door creaked opened and Joker reentered the room, eyeing her carefully as he closed the door.
"You're still dressed," he spoke. She could tell he was still pissed. He threw the phone on the floor, then reached for the buckle of his belt, beginning to remove it.
She didn't respond but watched him with a timid intrigue, as he swiftly took off his belt and threw it down as aimlessly as he did his phone.
"M-Mistah J?"
Her voice was soft, and before he could remove his pants, his eyes shot down to her.
He waited for her to continue, but she found herself at a loss for words. Trepidation consumed her face as she gazed at him, her eyes tracing every curve of every muscle on his chest and shoulders, memorizing every tattoo that marked that pale, toned skin.
He observed her terrified state, and huffed a frustrated breath in return, letting go of the hem of his pants and running a hand through his green hair.
He chuckled, but it came out vehement. "Un fucking believable," he hissed, shaking his head at her. "You can sleep alone then, toots."
And as he turned to leave her in the bedroom, a maddening desperation took over her. She panicked, her body beginning to shake. No, she didn't want him to leave. She needed him here with her. She spotted a hand gun sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Without another thought she grabbed it and squeezed the trigger, sending a loud bullet into the wall.
Joker turned around instantaneously, a mixture of rage and bewilderment capturing his face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he exclaimed, extending his arms in frustration.
Harley didn't drop the gun however. Instead she repositioned herself on the bed, her eyes never leaving his. Knees bent, she pressed her stomach down onto the sheets. The skirt of her dressed lifted as her derriere pointed upward, invitingly. She held the gun close to her face, and then with the narrowing of her eyes, She licked the side of the weapon. It was hot and burned her tongue, but she seemed immune to the pain.
Joker's gaze towards her changed as he cocked his head to the side, his chest lifting with his heavy breaths. His eyes widened as they locked with Harley's, and with a shake of his head he approached the bed and grabbed hold of her shoulders, lifting her up.
A high pitched squeak fled her throat as he pinned her down on her back, prying the gun from her hand and then smashing it against the side of her face.
She didn't cry, she didn't scream. Instead she moaned. And she felt the tremendous fear leave her body as the longing began to totally consume her.
"You crazy fucking bitch," he beamed quietly, and then cleverly smiled, throwing the gun onto the floor and plummeting himself onto her.
He wasn't cold now. No, he was warm. He felt so warm as he pressed himself on top of her. And immediately his lips found hers, pressing his mouth fiercely onto her. He kissed her deeply, and as he did so she wrapped her legs around his hips, entangling herself on him.
He swerved his mouth against hers, and with the part of her lips invited him inside. As his tongue caressed hers, she felt his hands travel along her body, his hands running up her thighs and underneath her dress. He pulled away from her in frustration, leaving her laying there breathless. He saw the gentle bounce of her breasts while her chest expanded and released.
"Take it off," he ordered her and with wide eyes she nodded, sitting up and grappling the end of her dressed. He watched for a moment as she struggled to remove the skin tight article.
With a dramatic groan and roll of his eyes he reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade, springing it open with a flick of his wrist. Harley gasped when he brought the blade to the top of her dress, slicing it down. She could see a fire in his eyes as the knife cut evenly through the fabric in a straight line. Her breasts were freed and all she was left wearing was a black thong. Without hesitation he brought the knife to the strap of her underwear, cutting it briskly. Harley removed it quickly, until she was left absolutely naked before him.
His breathing had accelerated just like hers, eyeing her eagerly. Her breasts weren't large but beautifully shaped, her nipples rosy and puckered. Her thighs were slender yet thick, while her waist resembled an hour glass.
She grew tired of him staring at her, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him down, trapping his hips with her knees. She pressed her body against him, and she could feel her nipples brush his chest, and feel his groin pulsing against hers. There she kissed him, more softly this time, tasting his lips, feeling him wrap his arms around her back. He bit down on her lip suddenly, surprising her, and he used that moment to regain his control and reverse their positions. He pushed her down brutally onto the bed, a gasp escaping her throat. And almost immediately he kissed her harshly, grabbing her wrists and pinning them over her head. She squirmed pleasantly underneath him, while his mouth traveled away from hers, sloppily down her chin and neck, leaving a wet trail as he smoothed his mouth over her clavicle, down between her breasts.
She gasped as she felt him travel further down her stomach, her navel. Feverishly, he let go of her wrists to separate her knees and kissed her inner thigh, carefully flicking his tongue against her skin. Her back arched, her hands finding his hair and grasping his strands tightly.
Too quickly, however, he abandoned the area, to her disappointment, and returned to her face, kissing her deeply, with more passion now. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and there he placed his hands on the small of her back, lifting her slightly and intensifying the kiss. Her moan was muffled against his mouth.
His breath was so hot now, and his hands felt like fire on her naked skin. She exhaled frantically as his mouth left hers and he trailed his tongue down to her left breast. Another sharp throaty gasp emerged from her, her body squirming underneath him as he continued to gloss his tongue against her nipple. He was slow and seductive. And with his tongue never parting her skin, he lifted his head slightly to make eye contact with her.
Hungrily, she met his gaze, her fingers painfully gripping the sheets beneath her. "Don't stop," she begged.
She could feel him smile, and then his licks turned to sucking, and there she found herself emerged in ecstasy, the center of her body beginning to burn and contract relentlessly.
Loud, deep moans fled from her mouth as he continued to fondle her, his thumb and index finger rubbing the erect nipple of her neglected breast.
His hand moved from her breast however, and traveled down to the center of her body. She began to tremble as she felt him begin to touch her there, while maintaining his mouth on her rosy peak.
He found her center of pleasure and carefully rubbed it, smoothing his finger over the small mound. His hand became wet as he caressed her at her most sensitive area.
A loud soprano moan erupted from her throat and she found the burning sensation beginning to grow, and grow, and grow to the point of no return. She felt the release of pure pleasure engulf her entire body. Madly she quivered underneath him, losing herself in the feeling, uncontrollable sounds and screams escaping her body.
Ferociously, she grabbed his neck and pulled him up to her face, pressing her mouth onto his. He smiled against her lips. And yet, powerfully, he removed himself from her. On his knees he watched her breathe heavily, a flush to her cheeks, her lips parted.
And now he grabbed the hem of his pants and looked down at her solemnly. Fiercely, her eyes widened, breath quickened even more. She watched intensely as he removed his covering and saw his longing for her. And before she could have another moment to process and appreciate his nakedness, he roughly grabbed hold of her and turned her around, her stomach and face pressed against the sheets. He forced her knees to bend, pulling her legs apart. He placed a hot palm on her back, pushing her further down.
Harley saw darkness at this point, and when she felt him enter her, she screamed, the sound remaining stifled against the sheets. It felt painful and forced, but as he began to move inside of her, the pain transitioned into pure pleasure. Intense pleasure. And the faster he moved the more intense it became.
She felt his hands grab her bottom, and he pushed himself harder into her, increasing his speed. She pulled at her own hair, her body tensing up. She was contracting around him and he could feel it. She never stopped screaming. That same burning sensation she felt minutes ago quickly returned. But this time it was bigger, bolder, more fervent. It grew and grew until suddenly she was consumed with pure ecstasy, lifting her head and screaming at the top of her lungs.
He continued to move inside her, faster and more frenzied. And as the sensation mellowed down it came back just as quickly, causing her to slam her head back down onto the sheets and moan heavily.
When she felt him move out of her she growled, turning herself around and pinning him down. Fervently she moved her hands along his chest as she positioned herself on top of him. She saw his eyes roll back into his head and she carefully lowered herself onto his hips, bringing him back inside her.
A low deep moan fled his mouth as she moved against him, her knees locking at his sides and quickly bobbing herself on top of him. Grappling her thighs, he lifted himself from the bed, never disconnecting from her. Holding onto her rear, he brought her closer to him, while she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs straddling him.
They continued to move against each other sloppily, passionately. Her lips found his once more, and messily she kissed him. He returned her gesture, now pinning her down onto her back, grabbing her knees and pushing them together.
Now he thrust inside her more vehemently, madly. And she felt it again, the pressure building in the center of her body, her center contracting and flexing against his member. She grabbed her hair harshly, throwing her head back, another trifling scream roaring in her throat as her body succumb to the intense pleasure once more.
And a few moments later, he felt his own pleasure overtake him, and he released inside of her, collapsing on top of her.
She wrapped her arms around him, and there they remained for a long while, breathing heavy, pale bodies glistening in sweat. When she kissed his shoulder is when he rolled off of her.
Harley still struggled to catch her breath as she noticed the Joker sit up, his chest expanding and releasing dramatically. He looked down at her, but didn't say a word. She didn't know if she should smile as she returned his stare.
Finally he spoke, in almost a whisper. "Still afraid?"
She shook her head, lifting herself up. "No."
"You will be soon enough."
With that he left the bed, opening a drawer to a dresser and pulling out a pair of sweat pants. She watched as he put them on quickly, then pulled out one of his dress shirts and tossed it to her.
Slowly, she put her arms through the sleeves but didn't bother buttoning it. He raised his brow bone in intrigue, while her glare towards him remained seductive.
He turned off the lights, leaving them in the darkness as he returned to the bed and laid down. Harley immediately attached herself to him. He didn't seem inviting of the gesture, yet he didn't pry her off of him either.
"Good night, Puddin," she cooed, nuzzling herself against him.
He sighed, and she couldn't tell if it was a pleasant motion or one of frustration. Carefully he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"Watch your step in the morning. There's a gun on the floor."