Chapter 26: Post-Violence Claiming
The convertible tore through the side streets, the wind whipping their hair into wild tangles. Ivy drove with a terrifying calm, her knuckles white on the wheel, taking corners so sharp the tires screamed in protest. The sirens faded behind them, swallowed by the maze of the city.
In the backseat, Harley couldn’t stay still. She was vibrating, a live wire of adrenaline and fury. She kept flexing her right hand, the knuckles split and smeared with drying blood—his blood. Her eyes, wide and pupils blown, were fixed on Harmony in the passenger seat.
“Did you see his face?” Harley’s voice was a rasp, cutting through the wind roar. “That fucking pop? Like stepping on a goddamn grape.”
Harmony didn’t answer. She just watched Harley in the rearview mirror, her own breath coming in shallow pants. The fear was gone, replaced by a low, throbbing heat in her gut. The image of Harley swinging that bottle, the absolute certainty in her movement, was burned onto the back of her eyelids.
Ivy pulled into the hidden alley behind their building, killing the engine with a abrupt twist of the key. Silence crashed down, heavy and immediate, broken only by their ragged breathing.
Harley was out of the car before it had fully stopped rocking. She yanked open Harmony’s door, her movements jerky and urgent. “C’mere.”
She didn’t wait. She grabbed a fistful of Harmony’s shirt and hauled her out, slamming her back against the warm metal of the car door. The impact knocked the air from Harmony’s lungs. Then Harley’s mouth was on hers, not kissing but claiming, a brutal, desperate press of lips and teeth. Harmony could taste the coppery tang of blood on Harley’s lip, could smell the syrupy sweetness still clinging to her hands.
Harley broke away, panting, her forehead resting against Harmony’s. “That turn you on, bunny?” she growled, her voice rough and low. She ground her hips forward, the hard denim of her shorts a stark pressure against Harmony’s core. “Seeing your girls go feral for you?”
“Yes,” Harmony breathed, the word barely audible. It was the truth. It terrified her how much it was the truth.
Ivy moved behind Harley, a cool, green presence. She didn’t touch them, just watched, her eyes dark pools of approval. “She’s ours,” Ivy stated, her voice a quiet, definitive law. “No one else gets to look.”
That was all the permission Harley needed. She crushed her mouth to Harmony’s again, her tongue forcing its way in, a messy, dominant invasion. Harmony’s hands came up, tangling in Harley’s pigtails, pulling her closer, surrendering to the storm.
They stumbled into the apartment, a tangle of limbs and frantic hands. The door slammed shut, locked by a trailing vine from Ivy that snaked out and clicked the bolt home. The main room was dim, shadows stretching from the plants that crowded every surface.
Harley pushed Harmony down onto the worn velvet couch, following her down, a knee on either side of her hips. She grabbed the hem of Harmony’s shirt and ripped it over her head, the buttons pinging off the floor. The cool air hit Harmony’s skin, raising goosebumps.
“I wanna taste you,” Harley snarled, her fingers hooking into the waistband of Harmony’s jeans. “Right the fuck now.” She wrestled the denim and her panties down her thighs in one rough, efficient motion.
Harmony cried out as Harley’s mouth descended, not with gentleness, but with a hungry, open-mouthed fervor. There was no teasing, no buildup. Harley’s tongue was on her, in her, a wet, relentless pressure against her clit. She licked and sucked with a frantic rhythm, her hands pinning Harmony’s hips to the couch, holding her still.
“Oh, god, Harley,” Harmony moaned, her back arching. The sensation was too much, too direct, a raw electric current straight to her spine.
Harley came up for air, her chin glistening. “You like that, you little slut? You like my mouth on your cunt after I just smashed some fucker’s face in?”
“Yes! Don’t stop, please.”
Ivy knelt on the floor beside the couch, her movements slow and deliberate. She watched them, her fingers tracing patterns on Harmony’s stomach. “Look at her, Harley. Look how wet she is for you. For us.”
Harley dove back down, her tongue plunging inside Harmony, fucking her with it, before returning to circle her clit with bruising intensity. Harmony’s hands fisted in the velvet, her hips bucking against Harley’s hold. The world narrowed to the heat of Harley’s mouth, the scent of blood and sweat and sex, the approving gaze of Ivy.
“I’m gonna come,” Harmony gasped, her thighs trembling.
“You fucking come,” Harley ordered, her voice muffled against her. “Come all over my face.”
The command, filthy and absolute, shattered her. Harmony’s orgasm ripped through her, a silent, screaming wave that left her body rigid and then boneless. She shuddered through it, feeling Harley’s tongue work her through every last pulse and spasm.
As Harmony lay panting, Harley crawled up her body, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked wrecked and triumphant. She kissed Harmony, deep and slow, letting her taste herself on Harley’s tongue.
Ivy rose then, her presence shifting the energy in the room. She guided Harley onto her back on the floor, amidst the scatter of throw pillows. “My turn,” she murmured, her voice a low thrum of power.
She stripped Harley’s shorts and panties off, then her own dress, letting it pool around her ankles. Her body was a landscape of smooth, green-tinged skin and sharp angles. She settled over Harley, one thigh pressing insistently between Harley’s legs.
“You were very good today,” Ivy whispered, lowering her mouth to Harley’s ear. “My violent, beautiful girl.”
She reached down, her fingers finding Harley’s wetness, and slid two fingers inside her without preamble. Harley gasped, her head slamming back against the floor, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.
“Fuck, Red! Yes!”
Ivy fucked her with her fingers, a steady, punishing rhythm, her thumb pressing hard circles on Harley’s clit. She watched the pleasure and pain war on Harley’s face, her own expression one of intense focus. “This is what you need, isn’t it?” Ivy breathed. “After all that chaos. You need to be taken apart.”
“Yeah, fuck, yeah, take me apart,” Harley babbled, her hands scrambling at Ivy’s back.
Harmony slid off the couch, joining them on the floor. She leaned over Harley, capturing her mouth in a kiss, swallowing her moans. She could feel the frantic beat of Harley’s heart through her own chest.
Ivy’s pace increased, her hips pumping, driving her fingers deeper. “Come for me, Harley.”
It was not a request. Harley’s body bowed off the floor, a raw, guttural scream ripped from her lungs as she climaxed, clutching at Ivy’s arm, her entire body seizing up before collapsing into a trembling heap.
For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, mingling in the dark, plant-filled room. The three of them lay tangled on the floor, skin slick with sweat, the scent of sex and blood and overturned soil thick in the air.
Ivy was the first to move, extracting her fingers slowly, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a slow, deliberate lick. She then reached out, her touch surprisingly gentle, and brushed a strand of hair from Harmony’s damp forehead.
Outside, a siren wailed, distant and irrelevant. They were in their own world, a kingdom of three, built on a foundation of violence and this fierce, desperate love. Harley let out a shaky, breathless laugh, curling into Ivy’s side, one hand finding Harmony’s and lacing their fingers together.
No one spoke. They didn’t need to. The silence was theirs, too.