Harley mumbles agreement, on both counts. Her lashes flutter against his skin as she moves to another spot to leave another mark.

She wouldn't mind a few marks of her own, would even welcome it, but not until she finishes this job. Maybe she'll suggest it to him.

"I love you," she whispers against his throat, over and over. She hasn't said it since Niagara Falls and apparently needs to make up for lost time.