I gently cupped Harley's trembling face in my hands, my thumbs softly tracing the flush of anticipation across her cheeks. Her lashes fluttered with a barely contained excitement, and as I leaned in, I pressed a tender kiss first to her cheeks, then to her neat, delicate nose. Finally, my lips brushed hers in a gentle, lingering touch, savoring the warmth and vulnerability between us.
Slowly, I deepened the kiss, my tongue slipping between her lips, exploring with careful, affectionate intent. Harley responded with a soft, tender suck, as if awakening long-lost sensations deep within her. A quiet purr welled from her throat, vibrating through the space between us, and I felt the light sheen of excitement covering her skin.
Caught in the quiet intimacy, I lingered in that moment, cherishing every subtle response—the way she leaned into my touch, her breath quickening, fingers clutching at my sleeves. Not wanting to interrupt the growing passion, I summoned a winter tent from the bottomless storage, which successfully protected me from the bitter cold of the Arctic, and lifting Harley in my arms, I carried the girl inside.
Without interrupting the greedy, already heated kisses for a second, I slid one hand along the inside of her thigh, forcing her to spread her legs wider. My fingers penetrated under her panties, and her body responded with a tremor. I slowly massaged her wet clitoris, inflaming her and bringing her to ecstasy, then removed my hands and hastily lowered the thin straps of the dress clinging to her body from her shoulders and undressed myself. With impatience, greedily, I caressed her elastic, juicy breasts with my lips, alternately running my tongue over her swollen nipples, teasing slightly, from which she arched and moaned. With my fingertips, I gently touched her small navel, lightly massaged her stomach and moved down to her pubis.
I hesitated, wanting her to get her fill of caresses. With one movement, I tore her panties off, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I pressed her closer to me and slowly entered her until it stopped. She began to move in the same rhythm with me.
"Oh, Alex! This is magical!" Harley exclaimed. "Anghhh!!"
Each of my thrusts she responded with an uncontrollable moan, lifting her disobedient legs. She closed them tighter behind my waist.
"Damn! Ha-haHA-HA! I'm cumming, you bitch!" the crazy villainess screamed frantically. Her eyes looked up, every muscle, every part of her being and all the thoughts that made her a woman now united in a wonderful and fantastic onslaught of orgasm. It was cool, but still, it was only a prelude, I knew what she wanted most of all. Her eyes spoke enough caresses, she wanted real madness, passion, rough submission and unquestioning obedience... Fortunately, we have the whole night ahead for this.
**********************
[+ 1 to the King's Wife stat Congratulations, you have another companion willing to spend her life with you. + 1 to Endurance.]
My harem had grown once again—and this time, believe it or not, it was none other than Harley Quinn herself. The most reckless, unpredictable woman the world had ever known was now part of my inner circle. Was I happy about this? Absolutely. How could anyone not be? Buoyed by this exhilarating turn of events, I strode into work, still riding the high of my elevated mood.
However, any lingering trace of euphoria quickly faded as I was greeted by the stern gaze of my irreplaceable secretary, Heather. The way she fixated on me with that heavy look spelled only one thing: an endless mountain of work awaited. Every time Heather adopted her mask of strict professionalism, it seldom meant anything good for me.
"Heather, you look wonderful today," I tried, softening my expression in the hope of lightening her severe mood. But she was as unyielding as ever.
"Thank you. I always look wonderful," she replied flatly. The confident click of her elegant heels echoed as she followed me into the office, taking her seat across from me and straightening her already impeccably upright posture. Without preamble, she handed me a folder full of documents.
"What is this?" I asked, eyeing the folder with suspicion.
"How many times have I asked you to find someone for the position of CFO?" she demanded, her tone brisk.
"This week?" I offered hesitantly.
She took a breath, annoyance flashing in her eyes. "The company is growing, things are moving faster, and my free time is evaporating. You don't even compensate me for all the overtime I put in," she said, folding her arms across her chest.
"If that's your only concern, you don't need to worry," I responded, doing my best to appease her. "I'm prepared to write you a sizable bonus."
"Thank you," Heather replied without missing a beat, accepting my offer with her usual composure. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm currently handling responsibilities that belong to someone else. I'm already juggling more roles than one person reasonably should, and you don't seem to care."
She continued, "So, I went ahead and posted recruitment ads for the CFO vacancy, as we discussed."
It turned out the bundle of documents she had just given me contained profiles for ten candidates she'd culled from hundreds of applications. "These are the candidates I've selected based on your own stringent requirements. According to company policy, you have the final say on every new hire, so I'd like you to review these options and make a decision as soon as possible."
I nodded, understanding the logic but aware that I could be picky to a fault. "No one joins this company without my personal approval," I mused. "That way, I can be sure to weed out liars, traitors, and those who simply don't belong. My intuition has proven to be my greatest asset—its scope is even broader than my bottomless storage."
With a rare note of warmth in her voice, Heather added, "I recommend that you pay special attention to the candidate featured on the first page. She made a remarkable impression during her interview."
Heather was hardly ever lavish with praise, so her endorsement was nothing short of extraordinary. Intrigued, I turned to the first profile in the folder. The name at the top stood out immediately—*a*al* e *u*hm*n. Whoever had managed to leave such a strong impression on my famously meticulous secretary was certainly worth a closer look and now I have an idea on who it could be.
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