Pleasure & Pain

Harley had never told anyone, but she liked it rough. She hadn't even known until she met the Joker. That first night, when she'd left Arkham looking for him in a stolen harlequin costume. That night, she'd been ashamed and frightened.

He'd been kissing her, gently. He said he was impressed, his hands running down her body, undressing her. She'd thrown everything away for him – her future, her past, everything – and now it was worth it, as he made love to her, hands running down her back, pulling her closer and closer until she felt his heart pounding against her chest, matching the pulse between their legs. Kissing her lips, her neck, her shoulders. She felt like she was burning up, hotter than she'd ever been. And she whispered his name over and over.

Then he bit her.

She remembered gasping, frozen in pain and pleasure, her shoulder burning, his teeth cold compared to his fiery breath. And she climaxed, hard, gasping, unable to speak. He'd ravished her then, purring with pleasure. Pounding into her so hard she bruised, raking her back with his nails, biting her shoulders, her neck. Oh god, she'd screamed then. Screamed his name. Screamed in pain and pleasure, needing him, begging don't stop no no no. Her body betrayed her and she hung on to him, tried to pull him closer, until he'd forced her arms away, grinning, chuckling. It hurt, the need for him, the way she couldn't control herself, that hurt more than anything. He'd come, looming over her and he slammed her against the wall and left her.

She laid there, feeling the places where he'd bit her, most of them bleeding. She opened her eyes and he was watching her, licking blood from his nails. Her blood.

She'd been terrified that he was going to kill her, but he finally left and she'd crawled to the bathroom and tried to clean herself up. And she knew she couldn't ever leave him.