totalwildcard | Needful Things Building; Monday Afternoon

Once again that got her soft kissing. Marc was enjoying it, given their position it was clear that he was even with his pants in the way. but the response was still something easy and tender.

And it was still kind of throwing Harley off. Not in a bad way! But in a 'huh, wasn't expecting that' kind of way. She wasn't fumbling her response, but it lingered somewhere on the edges of her mind.

Felt like she was learning something. She just wasn't entirely sure what.

She gave his lip a little lick. And also caught her nipple between her fingers. Nothing rough, just a little tweak.

Frankly Marc was learning things as well, but he also had no idea what. He wasn't going to linger on thinking about it though. Instead he gave her lip a light nip in return. His hand mimicked hers, with him now adding to what she was doing instead of her following him.

Maybe he'd get lucky and Harley wouldn't call any attention to things out loud.

She made a noise in her throat that definitely wasn't a word. It was something pleased, though. Both for the sensation of her hand on herself (because duh, of course) but also for the feel of his. It was - well, here was that word again: nice.

She got a little bolder, with the kneading and the tweaking. Not more rough, just more... more. And not only that: her uncovered hand on the other side got back to work too.

Marc followed along, applying extra pressure with his thumb when she gave herself a pinch. Also rocking into her as much as he could in time with the way her other hand was moving.

Really should've gotten his pants off earlier. Maybe he'd remember to do that soon-ish. Maybe.

Maybe! Harley didn't seem to be in a rush to remind him. She was trying to cant her hips up into his thrusts, enjoying the rhythm of the rocking and how it seemed to be syncing up with the way she was kneading at her breast. How every sensation in her body seemed to be talking to each other.

She exhaled a little moan into the kiss. As was her way, it sounded happy.

Marc deepened the kiss in response to the moan. He pressed in with his hips, giving her more weight on top of her and something even more solid to move up against. He didn't make much noise but his breathing seemed not unhappy.

Harley had had about a split second's worth of an urge to say something - and then he did both of those things, and who cared about words, anyway?

She yielded to the deepening of the kiss, happily, and squirmed up against him, taking all the advantage of the weight and - let's be honest now - the shape of him against her that she possibly could.

Before any further clothes came off, anyway.

Solid applied to more than one thing at the moment for sure. So did cooperation as Marc moved his free hand down to Harley's hip and helped adjust the angle they fit together so that they could fit even better as he rocked into her.

Well then! Harley made one of those exclamation point! type noises of hers, right into the kiss.

In fact, now she was making some sort of noise for practically every time he rocked against her. Funny how that worked, with the pressure and the friction and everything. And both hands - all three hands? - on her chest were working with the same rhythm, too. Kneading and squeezing and pinching in time with the peaks of the sensation from down below.

Pun intended, this was Harley.

And Marc was, yanno, not not enjoying himself. Much as he showed such things in ways besides the obvious down below. A little extra pressure with his fingers, a harder kiss to get her breathless.

Maybe even a not displeased grunt, if one could imagine such a thing.

He was showing it in being there in the first place. Harley might not have had a grasp on how he worked all the time, but there were some things she could read.

Like this. How present he was.

How breathless she was getting, all lost in the sensations and clearly just being greedy for more with how she kept moving. Getting all that friction that was making her all good kinds of restless.

Marc himself didn't know how he worked most of the time, so in some ways she was ahead of the game there.

He was paying attention for sure. Which was why he picked up on that restlessness and added a little twist to his movement, giving her even more of that friction she was enjoying.

Okay, that was a louder noise. One of those that made Harley abandon the kiss for a few seconds to let it out, only to dive right back in.

Not just to give his lip a bite, although she very much did that. Like she was repaying sensation with sensation.

Marc gave her a nip back, timed with a squeeze of his fingers on her nipple. Both to do much as she was doing, which was to add to the various heightened sensations among everything else that he hoped made her feel good.

(Much as he ever hoped about things.)

He sometimes had a very clever way of disguising his hopes in direct action. Which Harley could only approve of!

With a little gasp against his lips. And another upward squirm, somehow yet more pronounced than the others.

"Right here," Marc murmured in the space the gasp left for talking. He pressed down so she had plenty to squirm against.

And he knew how shameless Harley could be about seizing opportunities. Particularly when he already had her keyed up something mad. He pressed down? She squirmed, writhed up against him like she wanted something. Like she intended to get it.

He really should've taken his pants off when he'd had the chance.

Marc could add it to the list of regrets in his life. Not that he was fully regretting anything right now. Harley was making nice noises and moving in fun ways so at the moment Marc didn't really have a problem with it. He deepened the kiss, trying to get her more breathless than she already was.

How much further was there even left to go, in the realm of breathlessness? Suppose they would find out, since Harley certainly seemed up for the challenge, attempting to claim more and more of his mouth right back.

while making some extremely unsubtle noises of pleasure into the kiss. All that moving wasn't going to stop now, not when she had a real nice angle and even nicer pressure from him!

Marc broke the kiss enough to murmur, "I gotcha" as he kept moving against her. He squeezed harder on her breast to give her a little more to help get her where she looked to be going.

His murmur received the response of a high-pitched whine of "Maaaarc" for no real reason. It certainly wasn't an objection to what he was doing! They were both moving, and if anything, Harley was just putting everything into it. Her hips, the hands on her chest, the feverish kiss, everything.

Weird how that 'I gotcha' always sort of felt like permission, even when neither of them actually thought it was meant as one.

She mumbled something breathless and incoherent into the kiss. Just straining now, towards her goal.

Marc was honestly kind of impressed that she was able to turn his name into a whine. But that was the kind of thing that was right in Harley's wheelhouse so in a weird way it made Marc feel something in his chest he wasn't going to identify. Nice worked. Could whining be nice? Somehow with her it was.

"Gotcha," he murmured again, doing what he could to meet her where she was and maybe give a tiny bit extra to help get her there.

You asked Harley, his name was perfect for a whine! Simple, with a nice vowel right in the middle to really draw out...

She didn't employ it again, however. Instead, her breathing grew all sorts of gaspy, more and more, as the urgency in all of her actions grew and grew, and then... Her toes curled, her back arched, everything tensed, and she got there.

His name made for a good moan, too.

The moan was nice. All her noises were nice. As was the way she felt as things fired off within her.

Marc kept moving with her, giving her what she needed to get up and over that edge. He eased the kissing just enough to make it easier for her to breathe, but he didn't go anywhere else. Instead he took in the view, possibly even with the goal of remembering it for later.

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