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Picks up after returning from the circus on day 2, after Harlequin speaks to us in our room (right after Pierrot leaves) and we go to the circus, where we don’t see Harlequin, and we go back home.
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The walk home is unsettling, to say the least. After the house of mirrors and Pierrot’s behaviour before letting you go, you’re not quite sure you should even stay in this town any longer. Carol. Carol has been taken by them, and they’ve done something to her. She didn’t seem herself at the circus.
It leads to you to an unsettling notion. that Carol wasn’t there of her own volition at all.
‘May I accompany you home, ma’am?’
His voice slithers over you like a snake, coiling tight around your waist, and neck. Gooseflesh breaks out over exposed skin as the wind picks up. You feel him at your back.
‘Harlequin.’
It’s a statement. You know it’s him. You’d recognise that sly voice anywhere now.
‘You were late to the show, today. How unfortunate, we couldn’t meet. I would’ve loved to show you some… great things, ma’am.’ His voice drops with innuendo. But you pay it no mind as you make your answer.
‘I think I’ve seen enough, of the circus. I’ve been twice, now.’ Both times less than pleasant.
Humans are meant to be able to sense danger. Our instincts aided us greatly in the pre-historic ages, the ability to sense a predator from far away. Primal fear. That's exactly what you're feeling right now, even though this is not jungle, and Harlequin is no lion.
But your gut reacts the exact same way nonetheless. Harlequin sets of so many alarm bells in your head, and Pierrot does to some extent, as well. All of them. They’re not… normal.
‘What’s on your mind, ma’am?’
You can hear the smile in his voice. He skips to catch up with you, now walking at your side, the way he did yesterday, when you were just trying to get to the cafe.
‘Harlequin…’ you want to tell him to leave you alone. Despite the way your heart is racing. This feeling, it's like what you'd experience on a rollercoaster, when you can't see it yet, but know in your bones that the big drop is coming.
‘Yes, ma’am?’ Harlequin’s tone is deceptively polite.
You remain silent as you continue down the road to your home.
‘Did he answer your questions about the Circus, ma'am?’
‘You mean Pierrot?’
‘Yes, ma'am. Well, did anyone else, too?’
‘No. But I did get to meet the rest of your… crew.’
‘Oh?…’ he says. Then, after a moment, ‘Did you take a liking to any of them?’
You would much rather not discuss anything about the Circus with him.
When you don't answer, he steps in front of you, his sly smile still in place.
‘What’s the matter, ma'am? Cat got your tongue?’ He brings his own green tongue out, and licks a line along his bottom lip. Your eyes narrow at it, getting caught on the languid brush of movement. Then, you push past him.
‘Oh, ma'am, I thought we were getting along splendidly. Don't you want me to make good on my promise?’ He calls out to you.
‘Pierrot didn’t show you anything, did he? I could. If you’d allow me.’
You've reached your building by now, you're at your door, and the keys are in the keyhole, as you twist and turn the lock.
Harlequin’s lean, long body presses up against you, his arms encircling your waist. You suck in a sharp breath, the contact unexpected. He tilts his head down to whisper in your ear. ‘I could make you enjoy it, ma’am. You would not… regret… a single second of it,’ he says, and he licks the shell of your ear as he does. Your mouth falls open, and your head leans forward, almost trying to escape him, and his weird tongue.
But the movement pushes your hips further against him, and he chuckles softly, the voice deep and… almost erotic.
‘Give me a chance, to show you,’ he whispers against your ear, and licks you again, this time at the sensitive spot just behind it, ‘what I could be for you.’
You bite your bottom lip. Do I really want to do this? With him, of all people?
He spins you around roughly, and you gasp as your back hits the door of your apartment, which is still half locked. He looks at you, with an uncharacteristic intensity, need burning in his bright green eyes.
‘Would you let me, ma'am?’
His gloves hand comes up and he runs a finger gingerly down the side of your face, almost marvelling at your features, as he waits for your answer. A question troubles you, though. Your previous experiences with Harlequin haven’t all been absolutely safe. In fact, all of them have had a degree of danger that you are not used to, and not even sure if you like.
‘What if you kill me?’ you blurt out.
His hand drops, and face goes slack for a second, before he bursts out laughing. You watch as his body shakes with it, his smile bright and genuine. It makes you feel a bit giddy that he’s laughing like that because of you.
‘Oh, ma’am,’ he says, ‘you… you’re simply adorable.’
You arch an eyebrow at him, as if to say, ‘Well you still haven’t answered my question.’
When he realises you won’t budget without an answer, he says, ‘Heavens, not so quickly, no.’
‘Not so quickly?’ you repeat the words, eyebrows rising up and eyes widening; you can’t believe the audacity of this man.
‘You… think what happened to Columbina will happen to you, as well,’ he says, as if he’s coming to a realisation.
‘Yes. Won’t it? If I continue my involvement with either of you fools,’ you mutter the last part, eyes darting away from Harlequin’s.
‘I’m not the fool between us, ma’am,’ Harlequin says, his mouth twisting into a wicked grin.
You narrow your eyes at him.
He inhales once, before bringing both his hands up to cradle your face, caressing you, the motion tender. ‘If you do choose to allow me, tonight, to have my liberties with you… you have my word, you will come to no harm in my company. Not tonight.’ He thumbs a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, causing you to blink for a moment.
‘None that you do not wish for, that is,’ he adds, grinning wide. ‘So? Do you accept my offer?’
You bring your hand up, taking his and guiding it to your mouth, and you notice his claws retract as you do, as he watches you raptly, and you suck his index and middle finger in your mouth. If he’s playing around with you, you see no reason to not do the same to him. His grin is swiftly replaced with that same intense need, returned tenfold, and you smile at his reaction.
‘I… appreciate the enthusiasm, ma’am, but I want to hear you say the words,’ he says, leaning closer with every word, as if pulled to you. By the end, he’s so close his lips brush against yours slightly when you open your mouth to say, ‘Yes.’
The word is not even fully out of your mouth before he captures your lips with his, and he groans into the kiss; you briefly register his one hand deftly going to the door lock to open it while the other slides up into your hair to pull it softly, guiding you, and his mouth and jaw move against yours, coaching you to open up to him. His tongue — which is forked, you recall, from the time in the tent — licks fervently along the seam of your lips, and they fall open. He takes the opportunity to depend the kiss, and pulls you against him as the door flies open behind you.
He guides you backward into the apartment, to your room, pushing you down on the bed with his body; and you hear the door click closed. Your mind would have wondered why, if he hadn’t immediately climbed on top of you and resumed feverishly kissing you.
But Harlequin is full of surprises today. He pulls back suddenly, and you wonder why he does; you’re surprised find your body lifting up in protest.
He pushes you back down, almost too rough. You pant, and you can see the deep flush against his pale skin, even what little is exposed of his neck. You notice his cape is already off; you don’t know where it went.
‘I am going to devour every inch of you tonight, ma’am. But first,’ he leans over you and clicks the light off.
‘Huh?’ you blurt out.
‘When you do think it’s getting to be a bit too much,’ he says, and you feel a pulpy tendril take both your boots off, and you know they’re not his hands, because you can feel both of them on your wrists, ‘switch the lights on, and we can stop, or take a break. Whatever you wish. But I do hope you don’t feel the need, tonight,’ he says, his voice turning sly and wicked, as you feel the tendrils slid along your wrists, replacing his hands, and Harlequin slides down the length of your body, you feel him take your foot in his hands, and then, you feel him take the sock off, exposing your foot to the cold night air. He then licks, and you gasp, head lifting off the bed to try to look at him. You can make out his shape in the dark, and a terrifying number of tendrils seem to be coming from him.
The sensation is overwhelming, because one of his tendrils has decided to sneak under your shirt, and inside your bra, torturing your nipple.
‘Harlequin,’ you gasp, and a tendril takes the opportunity to come to your open mouth and slide inside it. You feel Harlequin moan against your foot when that happens, and sounds escape you too. Of pleasure, of surprise…
Harlequin takes your other foot, and gives it much the same treatment, kissing, licking, biting it, then his hands grip you at the ankle, sliding up both your legs. Your muscles tense when he reaches the top of your waistband, undoing the closures. The tendrils at your breast and the one in your mouth leave, and the two thick ones pinning your wrists down loosen slightly. Harlequin’s expression is not visible in the dark, but you can feel his gaze on your exposed midriff.
The top you were wearing is haphazardly pulled up over your breast on one side, the skin probably red.
‘You look… exquisite, like this. At my mercy.’
Harlequin’s voice is almost reverent in its praise, even though the words sound more predatory.
He leans over you to kiss you again, his hand going to your undone pants and sliding into your panties without warning. Your hips lift sharply off the bed, as you moan into his mouth.
He groans in response, and his hand deftly begins to move, rapidly, almost desperately, pulsing fast, tight circles along your soaking clit.
‘Ma’am, you are so wet for me,’ he says against you, his lips sliding downward, kissing your jaw, grazing his teeth against it, moving to your neck.
‘I want to mark you as mine, ma’am,’ he whispers, his tone commanding, yet somehow desperate.
You moan his name when his finger slows down, dragging lazily against your clit and between your folds, before he pulls it out altogether. You whine loudly, angry that he isn’t touching you anymore.
He brings his fingers up to his lips, licks them clean. He releases them with a pop, then he comes down on you to kiss you again, sharp teeth grazing against your lips and his forked tongue tangling with yours. Your hands come around him to clutch him to you, one going into his unexpectedly soft hair. His hand sneaks back down to its rightful place between your legs, and you notice they fall wider. He does too, evidently, because he grins against your mouth.
When he pulls away from the kiss, his mouth murmurs against yours, ‘You are the best I’ve ever tasted, you needy little creature.’
He punctuates it by circling your opening, making you arch your back.
He pulls away again, and you whine louder this time.
‘Not so fast, ma’am,’ he says, his voice sly. ‘You’ll have to work a lot harder for your orgasm.’
You lay there, panting on the bed, legs spread and clothes out of order. You feel Harlequin’s weight disappear entirely.
He comes back, and in the faint illumination of the room, you can make out that his body is now bare. You catch a glimpse of a tail, and your eyes widen. Your eyes peruse the rest of his body.
Every inch of him is muscle. Your body clenches in response to the view of him stalking towards the bed again, crawling onto it on his knees, before he rests his face on your lower stomach, looking up at you.
‘I’m going to take these off you now, ma’am.’ His smile is wicked and wide as his hands wrench your pants down, along with your panties.
He kisses the inside of both your knees, then drags his lips up to your pussy. He runs his nose along the slit, and you gasp.
‘You smell… heavenly,’ he says. ‘Just the right amount of fear, and… so much need, so much,’ you pulse against nothing as the words land between your legs like zaps to your core. How is he doing that?
He laughs, then, again without warning, he slides his tongue deep into you.
You yelp, and immediately try to close your legs against the intrusion, but his hands push your thighs apart. He squeezes them, almost painfully, but it feels good.
God, it feels good. His tongue thrusts slow, and deep, in and out of you, and your hips behind to rock to the rhythm, his hands gripping them and guiding you against his mouth. Your hands fly to his head, fully and completely riding his face now, and you pull at it, he groans against you, in bliss.
Then, just as you begin to feel like you’re about to orgasm, he stops.
‘Not now, my Queen,’ he says.
‘I’m beginning to think you don’t plan on letting me finish at all, Harlequin,’ you say, panting.
Your eyes, getting accustomed to the darkness, can see a smirk cross his face.
‘No, ma’am. Quite the contrary, in fact.’
He climbs up your body and flips you both over, so you are sitting flush against him. Your hands rest on his chest for balance, and his rest on your hips, holding you. Beneath you, you can feel how long and thick he is. Possibly the biggest you’ve ever had.
‘Harlequin,’ you say. You’re not sure why. Then your gaze meets his, which was affixed to you, on top of him. You’re in nothing now but your bra and t-shirt.
‘You look perfect like this,’ he murmurs. ‘Like it was meant to happen this way, this time.’ So low you wouldn’t have caught it if you hadn’t been leaning slightly forward when he did.
You look down, to notice pale skin, and blue-green veins around the V indents leading down to his cock. Which is what you’re sitting on, right now. It’s flush against your bare pussy; your slick is leaking onto it.
‘Care for a ride, my Queen?’ he smirks, rolling his hips against you, the friction almost causing your eyes to roll back. ‘Put me in you, ma’am.’
You lift yourself onto your knees, taking him in your hand. His size confronts you yet again.
‘Are we… sure… your kind can fit… in humans?’
Harlequin lets out a startled laugh, almost a guffaw, and he throws his head back. You tilt your head to the side, and smirk, looking at his exposed neck. You lean in, and bite down on it, slightly harder than is necessary, and suck. You’re aware that Harlequin has probably made you bleed at least once. So, you don’t mind. His chuckles soften, but don’t stop, so you bite him again. This time, you can feel warm liquid against your mouth, and Harlequin moans loudly in response to the blood you’ve cost him. You suck and lick it dry, causing him to roll his hips against you again, you think you hear him murmur a plea, but you’re not sure.
As you lick his neck, your hand travels down between you two, and you line him up with your entrance, before slowly pushing down, and pulling away from his neck. The stretch is borderline painful, but just enough not to be classified as pain rather than pleasure. His cock throbs and pulses, and he gasps; you are now full seated on him, with him locked inside you. You pull away to look at his expression. His mouth has dropped open, and the need from before is shining so clearly on his face, with none of his usual malice or sarcasm.
‘Whenever you’re ready, my Queen,’ he says, his voice laboured, and breathy.
He notices every sigh and breath, everywhere your skin flushes, every tremble and quiver of muscle, every shiver that goes down your body, as you begin to slowly move. His hands slide under your t-shirt, taking it off you, and sighing as he touched your breasts, plays with them, as you continue moving up and down, slowly.
‘Are you doing okay so far, ma’am?’ he asks, his expression watchful, fixed to the place where you two are connected. Slight concern furrows his brow.
‘Yes, God, yes,’ you moan, slightly picking up your pace. You then fall forward and roll your hips into him, taking him deep, and he groans.
‘Yes, my Queen, yes, oh — perfect,’ as your mouth finds the spot you bit, worrying it more.
His green eyes shine with so many emotions in this moment, he looks so different right now, in your room, in your bed. He’s warm.
A tendril slides around your thigh, squeezing it, before continuing on to circle the opening of your butt. You gasp sharply as it does, and he chuckles. Another tendril curls around your other thigh, and it starts flicking your clit, and you yelp as shocks go through your body. When the tendril presses against your clit and vibrates, you scream, and throw your head back, as an orgasm assaults you. Like a tidal wave, that you didn’t know would break so soon.
Harlequin takes the opportunity to come up and bite your neck once again. When his cock too starts moving rapidly inside you, faster than you think is humanly possible, your entire body starts preparing for another orgasm, and the tendril at your clit tortures it so deliciously, that there is another. Just as you do, you bit down on a fresh spot on his neck, and he hisses, as he does the same to you.
His arms clutch you to him, like something precious. You notice that yours too are clinging to him.
He then lies you down on the mattress, on your stomach this time, his expression turning wicked again.
Your body is lax, and you look back at him, as he slides into you from behind.
The sensation is new, and so welcome, you push back into him, moaning his name.
He blankets your back as he starts fucking into you, and your eyes roll back. You did not even know you were capable of feeling this way with a partner during sex.
You clench hard around him every time, harder and harder, and he groans when you do, his moans of pleasure are like music to your ears, spurring you on. When he finally does come, he bites another mark into your back, and fills you with so much of him, you’re not sure it’ll ever wash out.
‘Ma’am, you are… simply exquisite,’ he says, kissing your neck, and your back. You pant, and a small smile crosses your face.
He gets off you, rolling to the side, and pulls you into his arms. His hands, with their claws retracted, run circles into your shoulders, massaging you, and he caresses and pets every inch of your body.
His tail, you notice, has its end curled into a heart right now.
He kisses your lips, cheeks, your eyes, and the top of your head.
‘My Queen,’ he murmurs, eyes closing for a moment. Then, they open again.
‘My scent is all over you. Do you want to shower, ma’am?’ he asks.
‘No, not so soon,’ you say, snuggling into him. ‘You’re pretty caring for someone so… nonchalant.’ For lack of a better word.
‘I am much more than meets the eye, ma’am. I told you. I could be nice. For you,’ he says. Even his voice is so much warmer now than it was when you first met him.
‘Hmmm…’ you say. Your muscles relax, and Harlequin murmurs more into your hair, but it seems to be… an older language. Something you can’t make out. He kisses your head again, and drowsiness pulls you under.
You fall asleep happily tucked against Harlequin.