totalwildcard | Needful Things Building; Monday Afternoon

Marc normally didn't mind giving her a hand himself if she needed one. But he reminded himself Harley was outspoken about what she wanted, so if she wasn't asking him to help out he wasn't going to worry about it. Instead he focused on holding her and thrusting into her and letting those vibrations in her mouth resonate throughout as he felt himself getting near that edge too.

And Harley loved it when he got helpful, too! But she was also very greedy, so when she already liked what both his hands were doing, and as far as she knew he didn't possess the super power of a secret third arm... She could be her own helping hand, no problem.

It didn't take too much rubbing for all her noises to start becoming all that more urgent. And her hips were still moving with their insistent force, too, meeting him thrust for thrust.

And then thrust for suck, when it came to his thumb. There was an excitement to feeling him in more places than one, apparently.

Marc could understand that. He didn't possess a secret any spare body part, so thumb worked as a substitute way to feel her in more than one place too.

He kept up his thrusting, above and below, taking in all those sensations as the heat at the base of his spine grew and got him closer to the edge, ready to tip over at the slightest touch but trying to hold on so she could get where she needed...

Whereas Harley was not trying to hold on in the slightest. She even had to finally give up on her efforts to keep her eyes open, lost in all the other sensations.

But if he managed to keep his own eyes open, he was treated to her brow knitting together with all the effort and want, the insistent and continuing bounce of her chest, the visible tension in her abs, and the absolutely furious rubbing her hand was doing, fingertips slick and slippery --

Until her hips stuttered, falling out of their rhythm, suddenly more concerned with making sure he was really shoved all up in her than anything else - giving her something to feel in full when she came, about half a second later, groaning around his thumb from somewhere deep down in her chest as she did.

Marc was able to see it. Between knowing she got there and feeling it all over, it wasn't long before he hit his own climax like a punch to the gut.

His hand on her hip had almost bruising intensity as he rocked up into her with a loud grunt. Still no more articulate than he ever was, but there were good odds she knew by now that the sound and the way his face was screwed up meant it was all hitting him well.

Oh yes, Harley was more than familiar with what all of that entailed, and she even managed to pry her eyes open to a half-lidded state just to see the look on his face. There was always a kind of a proud extra thrill in affecting him. And in moments like this? Part of that came from feeling like they were in tune with each other.

And like he was extremely present in the moment with her.

She made another noise of her own in response to the grunt, like it just heightened something for her.

When she looked down she'd find Marc looking back up at her through his lashes. Not in anything coquettish - as though there was ever a question that Marc could be. More that, like her, the temptation to let go and keep his eyes closed was high.

But he was watching her instead, taking in the view as he breathed heavily and held on tight. Though the hand that cupped her cheek was gentle.

See? Present. Feeling the peak begin to calm down towards the afterglow, Harley's lips tugged into a dreamy smile.

Of course, one that was accompanied by her teeth giving his thumb a playful bite.

"Watch it," Marc mumbled, in a token protest and no more. He pulled his thumb out of her mouth and used it to caress her lips.

"Nah," Harley murmured under his touch, "but I'll watch you, anytime."

"Not so bad yourself," Marc replied. He moved his thumb back to caress her cheekbone.

Harley chuckled.

And then she finally began to slump down towards him, planting one hand against the mattress beside him to keep from just faceplanting into him.

Once she was fully slumped, Marc folded his arms around her, resting them on her back.

Because that was also comfortable. No other reason.

None whatsoever, Harley was sure! She settled down with her nose smushed against his cheek. Was it comfortable? Eh, but it was comforting.

"Mmmmh," she hummed, low, pleased. "God but you're a fantastic fuck."

"Pretty good yourself," Marc said. Which surely she knew was effusive coming from him.

Harley was expecting nothing different, honestly.

It made the urge to tease him about it unstoppable, though: "Stop, you're makin' me blush."

"Everyone knows I word good," he told her. He moved one hand up to idly toy with her hair.

"So good, baby," Harley sighed, somewhere between teasing and just distractedly happy about the toying. "Top notch worder, you are."

"You're something else," Marc replied. It was complimentary, even if others might have used that wording to be an insult.

Harley had heard it from him enough times to recognize it for what it was.

"A world class sucker of other people's thumbs?" she suggested.

It may have been difficult to see in her current position, but Marc gave her side eye.

"How many we talking about here?"

"I think you can be world class with just one," Harley mused, because the qualification aspect was definitely what he'd been asking about, "so long as ya do it good."

Definitely. Nothing else in there had twigged something in him that Marc wasn't examining too closely.

"No complaints on my end," he said. He moved his hand to rub the back of her neck. "So guess that counts. For whatever the fuck my opinion's worth."

"Well you're the one that stuck it in my mouth," Harley replied easily, "so I guess it's got some weight, your opinion."

"No complaints," Marc told her.

He also rest his other arm more heavily against her back. Because weight, you see.

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