This takes place after the 816 end scene and is canon divergence. 901 doesn't happen after this, you'll see why.
Also, a big trigger warning for rape!
xxx
Donna was about to get ready for bed when she heard knocks coming from her front door. Seven knocks to be exact. She knew whose knocks they were. She always knew. But she wasn't expecting him. Already in her pajamas she just grabbed a big cardigan from the chair by her bed and hurried to the door. She was annoyed, mad almost, why in god's name Harvey Specter showed up at her door at ten minutes to midnight on a random Tuesday night. Well, it wasn't a random Tuesday. It was a very specific Tuesday and on that specific Tuesday the last person she expected to see was him. She swung the door open with so much force, ready to scream at him for showing up so late. After all, they didn't do the calling at midnight or six in the morning anymore. And they especially didn't do showing up at the others door at midnight anymore. Not after all they've been through. And not with her seeing Thomas. Things were getting more serious with Thomas. Donna and Harvey fought over it and now they were somewhat on good terms again. Still, knocking at the others door at this ungodly hour wasn't what they did anymore.
And here she was, ripping the door open, almost taking it from the hinges, ready to scream at him about why he dared to come here. But then she saw him. Her mind went blank the second they locked eyes. In those few seconds of deep eye contact she saw more of him than in the past decade. She saw everything she needed to know. And it seemed to her, so did he. So she took three steps back, leaving it up to Harvey to turn around and leave or close the distance and step into her life, their life, more, everything. She tilted her head slightly, wordlessly asking him what he wanted to do. His answer came in form of two long strides forward, crashing into her like a wave, slamming his lips to hers with such ferocity. The kiss was short, testing the waters, checking if this is what they both want. They parted, looked at each other again and saw all the answers to unspoken questions. He was there, now, with her, finally, thankfully. No word had been spoken by the time he pressed her up against the wall and onto the little side table and as he nipped at the skin behind her ear she wondered if he knew.
She wondered if he knew about all the things she wanted to tell him but never could. If he knew about the reason she felt relieved when she saw him. When she saw the love and desire in his eyes. She wondered if he knew that she was technically still in a relationship or whatever you would call that. If he knew how she felt, how happy yet scared she was, how afraid of what was about to happen she was. She wondered if he knew that after waiting for thirteen whole years for him to show up and finally be there, he chose the worst possible time. Not because of Thomas. Not only because of Thomas. She wondered if Harvey knew that she couldn't give him what he wanted, what he expected. What he expected to receive from her. What he gave her and therefore asked for it. She couldn't give him that but she didn't exactly tell him. So she just wondered if he already knew. But then he bit down on the spot where her shoulder meets her neck, the same spot he discovered to be Donna's weakness during the first time they did this. The other time. The time where things were different. For them. For her. For her mostly.
He bit down on the spot and swiped his tongue across it immediately after. Donna threw her head back, not able to resist the pleasure she received from such simple act. He kissed a trail along her neck, sucking in all the right places, gently tugging on her skin, forcefully biting it and softly kissing it. Donna ran her hands over his back, scratching her short, dark red nails over the fabric of his crisp white shirt. She ran them to his head, into his hair, slightly pulling, not to pull him away but to urge him on. And as she did so, she wondered again how they got here. Harvey Specter basically eating her neck and Donna... Donna not sure how to tell him what she was trying to tell him for the past two years. She pushed it off, thinking it had time, the right time to tell him would come. Eventually. Eventually the time would come. But it never came. And then he showed up at her door, ready for more, ready for everything and she hadn't told him yet. She hadn't told him that she was, in fact, not ready for more. For everything. And as he kissed her neck and slid his hands over her body, over her breasts, over her waist to wrap around her slender frame she couldn't help but wonder if she would tell him now. Now that he was here, expecting to undress her and take her to bed. Expecting to stay there for the rest of the night, forever perhaps. Expecting to receive the same love he gave to her. But she couldn't. She couldn't give him that.
And for some reason, some reason Donna couldn't quite explain, she didn't tell him to stop. So he didn't stop. His lips kissed her neck and his hands roamed her body and Donna had those four letters, this one single simple word on the tip of her tongue but it didn't come out. She tried to say it, she opened her mouth to say it but nothing. Nothing came over her lips except for a soft, unconscious moan as he sucked the most sensitive spot on her neck again. She bit her tongue the second the moan escaped her lips, not wanting to give Harvey the wrong impression. She wanted him to stop and not urge him on. But her throat decided against it, she moaned and Harvey smirked against her neck, not in the slightest aware of how she really felt. She wanted him to stop, she wanted to tell him to stop but she didn't tell him and before she knew it he ran his hands under her thighs and gathered her in his arms. She clung to his neck, to support herself, but also to keep control over the situation. A split of a second later he placed her on her dresser, standing between her parted legs. He leaned in, cupped her cheek with his big and warm hand and gently fused their lips together. And suddenly all her worries, all her thoughts, seemed to disappear as she felt his soft lips on hers. He gently captured her top lip between his, less forceful, more loving, caring. He sucked on her lip and swiped his tongue against it, asking for entrance, which Donna wanted to deny. She wanted to tell him to stop, to let go of her but in this moment, his soft tongue against her mouth, she forgot about that. So she opened her lips slightly and his tongue snuck inside, exploring the area, meeting her tongue in a slow and gentle dance. Donna closed her eyes and sighed softly as their tongues mingled together, colliding over and over again, soft flesh against soft flesh. She grabbed his shoulders, again, for support and to keep control. Something in the back of her head still told her to stop. To stop before it was too late. To tell him what he deserved to hear. To tell him before something happened that she didn't want. That neither of them wanted.
But she didn't. Instead, she moaned again as Harvey slid the silky top off her shoulders, revealing the soft, creamy skin of her chest, only covered by a burgundy lace bra, and peppered her breasts with soft kisses. He focused his mouth on one bra-clad breast as his hand grabbed the other to give it the same amount of attention. Donna tilted her head back, suddenly, for a reason she again couldn't quite make out, enjoying the sensation. She ran her delicate fingers through his spiky hair as he freed her breasts from their confines, revealing her hardened nipples. He reached around her back to unclasp the bra in a swift, well-trained motion and threw it away. The piece of lace landed on the chair by her bed, the same chair she kept the cardigan on that was now on the floor in her hallway and she wondered briefly when she lost it. He captured her now bare breasts again, taking one tight, pink bud into his mouth as he gently rolled the other between his fingers. Donna sighed and put both her hands on his neck, holding him close. She felt loved, admired. She felt like she could finally let go. Like she didn't want him to stop anymore. So she decided to not stop him. He gave her sensitive nipples a generous amount of attention, alternating between kisses and bites on one while squeezing, pulling and rolling the other before switching sides.
Donna took a deep breath, her chest rising into his face, and opened her eyes. He stopped his movements, lifted his head and looked at her. The love she felt pouring from his soul was nothing she has ever felt before, not with Thomas, not with anyone. It was the same love she felt during the other time, but now she also saw it in his eyes. Quickly contemplating whether her next action was the right thing to do, she decided she was safe with him and finally let go of all her worries. Briefly. Until he reached the waistband of her pants and nudged her hips, asking her to lift them so he could pull the pants down. In that moment her worries were back. But as her brain was busy processing the currently given circumstances, her body was already reacting. She lifted her hips and Harvey was quick to pull her pants down, leaving Donna clad in only red lace panties, barely covering her up, and Harvey still fully dressed sans jacket and tie, standing between her spread legs. Spread just far enough for Harvey to fit between, but also far enough for him to see the desire flooding her underwear.
She pulled him into a kiss again, desperate to feel the love, the safety again. Kissing. Tasting. Lingering. Temptation. Sensation. Overload. As their tongues clashed together Donna ran her hands down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt on the way, before reaching for his zipper. She pulled it down with shaky hands. Shaky from anticipation and shaky from anxiety. She felt like her sixteen-year-old self for a moment. Like the unkissed, untouched little girl she once was. The little girl that was about to have sex for the first time ever. She felt like that as she stuck her hand into his pants and stroked his length over the cotton of his boxer briefs. Harvey groaned at her touch and the roughness of his voice pulled her back into reality, into today. The roughness of the voice of a man in his forties, not a teenager whose voice just broke a mere two months ago. A man in his forties who was now about to slide his hand under the waistline of the panties of a woman. A woman in her forties as well. Not a sixteen-year-old. Not the virgin she felt like in this moment.
As she stroked his dick over the fabric of his underwear she thought how stupid she was. One, for feeling like a nervous little girl that never had sex, as if she didn't sleep with Thomas a good 24 hours ago, and two, for sitting on her dresser, almost naked, her hand in his pants and all of a sudden wanting this to end again. She felt so goddamn stupid. Her mind was telling her to remove her hand from his dick, to say the truth, finally tell him that she didn't want this, but her body wouldn't listen. Her actions the only signs he received from her - obviously. How would he know what was going on in that pretty little head of hers? So he kept going, didn't dare to remove her hand from his body, the feeling too good, and it was what he wanted. It just wasn't what she wanted. But Harvey didn't know that. So he kissed her again, her mouth once again responsive as her brain told her to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Her brain was screaming but her lips didn't transfer and Harvey couldn't hear. He kissed down her neck again, nipping and licking in all the right places, watching Donna's reactions. Reactions that came from her body only, like it had its own life. Her mind was racing, her thoughts spiraling, her brain telling her things but her body so responsive to his touch.
She kept stroking him, now reaching inside the boxers, the feeling familiar yet new. Harveys dick felt different. Better. Like it was made for her hand. She wondered briefly if it would feel just as perfect in her mouth when it hit her that she already knew that. She had him in her mouth before. And as the taste of whipped cream mixed with Harveys precum reappeared on her tongue, images reappeared in front of her eyes. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Harvey. His mouth found hers again and she was brought back to the present. The taste of whipped cream was replaced by the taste of Harveys tongue. Kissing. Tasting. Lingering. Temptation. Sensation. Overload. His hand pulled her panties aside as hers pulled his pants and boxers down, letting both fall to his ankles, where he stepped out of them, kicking both carelessly to the side. Her hand wrapped around his hardened member once again, gently stroking him. She swirled her finger around the head, spreading the precum. Harveys fingers found her slit and he carefully slid his middle finger through her folds, teasing her, testing the waters, testing her readiness. He found her soaking wet, like he already assumed from the dampness of her underwear. He moved his finger up and down a few times, swirling it around her clit, but never directly touching it. Donna moaned, for the first time louder and Harvey used the opportunity to stop teasing and pushed his middle finger into her core. Donna moaned again, her hand shortly forgetting his dick. She pulled herself back together as he started rocking his finger. Donna stroked his length in the same rhythm, twisting her hand in a way that made Harveys eyes roll into the back of his head.
He added a second finger and Donna gasped. His thumb circled her clit as he pumped his thick fingers and the images flashed before her eyes again. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Her bedroom. A hotel. Cotton. Pavement. Strawberries. Blood. Gentle kisses. Rough hits. Cries of pleasure. Cries of pain. Her bed. A street. Harvey. Her mind ran a marathon as Harveys fingers brought her closer to her release. Release from built up sexual tension, not release from her thoughts. Thoughts she was stuck in. Her hand luckily didn't care what her mind was doing as it kept a steady rhythm on his cock, bringing Harvey closer to the edge too. She stroked his length, his fingers curled inside her, sliding along her front wall, hitting the sweet spot she at some point believed she lost forever. And then she came, her hips bucking, only held down by Harveys strong grip on her waist, a cry of pleasure coming over her lips, her inner walls clenching around his fingers, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut, her fingers gripping his shoulder and his dick. The image in front of him paired with the tight hold on his dick brought him there too. Donna was still riding out her high as Harvey spilled on her stomach.
Harvey pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. Donna let go of his cock, now turning limp. As they rested their heads on eachothers shoulders, Harvey thought about the love he felt for the woman in his arms, the immense amount of love he has felt for so long but was never able to show her and now he was and she was there and understood and let him in and he loved her so much. He turned his head slightly, kissing Donna's neck, letting her know he was there, with her, finally. And Donna thought about the love she felt for the man that was holding her, but also the anxiety, the pain, the urge to tell him that she wasn't entirely there, with him. That she wasn't able to give him all that he deserved. And the images came back. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Her bedroom. A hotel. Cotton. Pavement. Strawberries. Blood. Gentle kisses. Rough hits. Cries of pleasure. Cries of pain. Her bed. A street. Harvey. A silent tear emerged from her eye, rolled down her cheek and fell onto Harveys shoulder. The salty liquid blended into the sweat on his skin. He didn't notice.
When they both came down from their wave of euphoria, they lifted their heads, staring deep into the others eyes. Harvey smiled at her, not like the Cheshire Cat like he usually would, but soft, caring, loving. He cupped her flushed cheeks in both his hands and brought her closer to press a soft, caring, loving kiss to her lips. As their lips became one, Harvey gently rubbed her back, and Donna felt like a weight got lifted off her shoulders. She leaned further into the kiss, her naked chest now touching his, her erect nipples grazing his skin, She sighed. Relief washing over her. Anxiety and pain replaced by love and pleasure. So she swung her arms around his neck, shuffling further to the edge of the dresser she was on, wrapping her legs around him, clinging to him like a monkey. Now not to keep control over the situation but because she wanted to touch him. Wanted to touch every inch of him. Feel him. Feel loved.
Harvey carried her to her bed, gently dropping her on the mattress. He leaned down to kiss her and as he hovered over her, his broad shoulders covering her small frame entirely, she felt small, and weak, and helpless. The images were back. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Her bedroom. A hotel. Cotton. Pavement. Strawberries. Blood. Gentle kisses. Rough hits. Cries of pleasure. Cries of pain. Her bed. A street. Harvey. Harvey took off his shirt, threw it to the side where it landed next to her bra, on the chair where her cardigan usually stayed, the cardigan that was now on the floor in the hallway. Then he reached for her panties, pulling down the last piece of clothing separating them. When Donna realized that she was now naked, Harvey on top of her, she felt like the little girl again. Scared of what was going to happen. She wanted to laugh about how stupid she felt for being scared of sleeping with Harvey. And she wanted to cry about why she was scared of sleeping with Harvey in the first place. He was gentle and caring and loving and Donna was so scared that just one split of a second later that could change. She was so scared of being hurt. Again.
The last thing she was expecting tonight was sex. Well, it was the second to last thing. The absolute last thing was sex with Harvey Specter. But when he stood at her door with so much love and adoration in his eyes she briefly forgot about the pain and the fear and let him in, into her apartment and into her comfort zone. He crossed the threshold and since then Donna's mind has been going back and forth between wanting to stop and not wanting to stop. Being afraid of what is happening and craving more of what is happening. She didn't stop him. She wanted to. Then she didn't want to. Now she wants to again. But the words were stuck in her throat again. They haven't spoken a single word yet. Harvey had no idea that Donna was so scared of him. All he knew was that she obviously liked what he did, she moaned, she came, now they were here. She looked at him with wide eyes, anxiety shooting through her body as images appeared in front of her eyes again. Different images this time. Faces. Harvey. Rachel. Louis. Harvey. Thomas. Mike. Harvey. Strangers. Harvey. One Stranger. Harvey.
In one swift motion she turned them around, now sitting on top of Harvey. The feeling of control brought her a tiny bit of comfort. Enough comfort to guide his dick to her entrance and slide down on him in a single movement. They both groaned at the contact, Harvey from the warm, tight feeling around his length, Donna from the delicious stretch his cock provided. She remembered how good he filled her the last time they did this and the taste of whipped cream reappeared on her tongue. The images came again. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Her bedroom. A hotel. Cotton. Pavement. Strawberries. Blood. Gentle kisses. Rough hits. Cries of pleasure. Cries of pain. Her bed. A street. Harvey. Donna screwed her eyes shut, squeezing them together, not wanting the tears to spill as she rode him into oblivion. They came together and Donna slowed her movements.
And now they were here, on their backs, staring at the ceiling and catching their breaths. After a few minutes of comfortable silence their breathing evened out and Harvey rolled himself half on top of Donna, his dick already half hard again, thirteen years of longing and waiting, ready to be released, released in the form of spilling the evidence of his derise into Donna. Donna. She was there. But she wasn't. Her mind was not there. Her mind was running circles. Circles between her bedroom and a street. They kissed, long and slow, her tongue sensually sliding against his top lip, soft moans against the others lips, her mouth falling open beneath his with a sigh. But then the kiss turned fierce and heated and almost possessive, wanting to initiate the next round. Harvey's hand traveled from her waist up over the side of her breasts to her face and then to her neck. Not parting from her lips once, he wrapped his big palm around her throat and gently pressed her into the mattress, not hard enough to strangle her completely, but sure strong enough to make breathing harder. The type of pressure that increases ones desire. The type of pressure that Donna so very much enjoyed when he last did this. So he did it again, gently wrapping his hand around her throat, squeezing softly. He expected her to moan, or inhale deeply, but she didn't. Her eyes widened as far as physically possible. A hand shot up to grab Harvey's. She turned her head, escaping his kisses. She pulled the hand on her throat away with all her strength.
"Harvey, stop!" she screamed and abruptly sat up on the bed, breathing fast and heavily, almost hyperventilating. She finally said it. The words were over her lips before she could think about them. Something got triggered by his touch. The images were back. Very clear this time. Harvey. Her bed. A street. Whipped cream. Dirt. A lilac La Perla slip dress. A pink coat. Bangs. Soft curls. Her bedroom. A hotel. Cotton. Pavement. Strawberries. Blood. Gentle kisses. Rough hits. Cries of pleasure. Cries of pain. Her bed. A street. Harvey. Harvey. Harvey was here.
"What's wrong?" he asked and moved to sit next to her, gently rubbing her back in order to soothe her. She jumped at the touch and Harvey pulled his hand back, realizing that right now she needed space. Space to calm down from whatever got her so scared. "Breathe." he whispered, not daring to touch her although his hands longed to feel her. Not for his own pleasure, but to make sure Donna was okay. She scared him now, still breathing rapidly, shock on her face, seemingly afraid of him. He wanted to hug her and tell her it's okay, it's going to be okay, but at the moment she looked like a hug would make things worse. A hug would scare her even more. Something was wrong and Harvey was determined to find out what.
"Donna, hey." he said, now daring to stretch out his arm and gently touch her arm. She didn't flinch. His hand lingered on her arm. "Talk to me. What happened? Did I hurt you?"
Donna shook her head. Fast. Wanting to reassure him that he didn't hurt her. At least not physically. The images disappeared and her breathing slowed again. She gasped for air, desperately trying to fill her lungs with fresh air.
"Are you okay?" he asked again. Donna nodded. "Can I hug you?" he added, wanting to touch her but not wanting to scare her off. So he asked, making sure she was fine. Donna nodded again. He grabbed the sheet from the edge of the bed and wrapped it around her slender frame before he pulled her into a hug, her head resting against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, slow and steady, the opposite of her own. Two years. And she wanted to cry. Two years. And she was still so scared. Scared of Harvey. Scared of everything. Two years have passed and in this moment she didn't know why she let him in, into her apartment and into her comfort zone, but she knew that deep down she was glad she did. He was here now, with her, holding her, protecting her. Except he was the one who scared her like that. He just didn't know that yet. And now he was holding her trembling body. Protecting her from himself.
"It's okay Donna. Shhh…" Harvey whispered, gently rubbing her back and her heartbeat slowed, her breathing evened out, the sobs ebbed off. "Shhh…" Harvey repeated the soothing sounds over and over again, desperately wanting to make her feel better, to make her feel safe, to calm her down. He didn't know what else to do, so he held her and made soothing sounds over and over again. He wrapped her up like a baby in a blanket, like a butterfly in a cocoon and just held her close to him. And he waited. Minutes passed. Silence filling the air. And he waited. He waited for Donna to lift her head, to say something. But she didn't. After a while he asked. He asked if she was okay. If she wanted to tell him something. Anything. But most importantly what was going on. Why she freaked out like that. He wanted to know what was going on. All he knew was that she suddenly freaked out. He didn't know that internally she had been scared all night. Every night. Every day. For two years.
Eventually she lifted a hand, wiped some tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup further, then she lifted her head, looking at Harvey with sad eyes. Eyes filled with so much fear and pain and he immediately knew that she'd been hurt. Something, someone hurt her and he didn't know. And it almost killed him. So he asked again if she wanted to talk. And she did.
"Do... do you remember the night I went to sleep with Mark… my ex?" she sniffled, he nodded.
"But… you said you didn't…"
"I didn't."
"Did he…you..." Harvey couldn't finish the sentence, the thought was already killing him, there was no way he could say those words.
"No." Donna whispered on an exhale. "No… he has no clue. I left the hotel before anything happened. I told you, Rachel texted me and I couldn't go with him, so I turned around and left. What I didn't tell you was that it would've been better if I went into Mark's hotel room." she sniffled again, wiped more tears from her eyes. Her voice was weak and shaky. Harvey hugged her even tighter.
"It all happened so fast. I… I was walking home, I needed to clear my head. He… he pulled me into an alley, he grabbed my handbag… I thought he just wanted my bag. He pulled it and it got caught in my coat. He… he pulled the belt of my coat open and I… I don't know why… for… for some reason I thought it was smart to wear just underwear under the coat and he… he pushed me and I fell and… and before I knew it he was all over me. He pressed me into the ground. He… he put a hand over my neck and choked me. I… I couldn't breathe. I thought I would die." she rambled and then broke into tears as she told him that she was thinking her life could end. Harvey held her as her tears ran and her body trembled.
"Donna… I'm so sorry… I wish I could've helped you. You could've told me." he whispered into her hair.
"When… when he was done he left me there, he didn't even take my bag. I couldn't move. I didn't say a word. Eventually I went home… and I never told anyone. Except for you now." she whispered and sniffled again.
"Look, um… I don't want to cross any boundaries here but…I thought that… I thought most women…" he didn't even get to finish his sentence as Donna already interrupted him.
"I didn't. For a while. For two whole years actually. Until Thomas. I… I liked him and when we went out to dinner I felt good about myself, about my life. I took him home with me, I thought it was time to live my life again. But when it got to the point of… you know… I got scared. I forced myself to sleep with him, told myself it's not a big deal, he wouldn't hurt me. He didn't, but how could I ever be sure of that, you know? Thomas was the first man I let closer to me again."
Harvey swallowed at the mention of his name. But he quickly brought his attention back to the redhead in front of him. This was neither about Thomas nor him. This was about Donna and if she was brave enough to open up to him, the least he could do was listen to her and be there for her.
"But even then I couldn't relax. I couldn't let go. I wouldn't let him be on top, I wouldn't let him go down on me, I wouldn't let him take control. And now we're here."
"So that's why you wanted to be on top?"
Donna nodded.
"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
Donna shook her head.
"I'm so sorry." Harvey whispered as he grabbed Donna's small hand.
"It's okay." she said and squeezed his fingers for reassurance.
"Come here." he said and gently pulled her into a lying position. "Are you comfortable?" he asked as Donna curled into his side. She nodded.
After a few minutes of comforting silence Donna spoke again. "It feels good to tell someone. To tell you."
"I'm glad you were finally able to tell me, Donna." he whispered and kissed her head. He felt horrible, for not seeing how hurt she was, for fucking her without thinking about it. For not asking her if she was okay like he usually would, but he thought she was. He felt horrible, for not seeing how scared she was, for not paying attention to her earlier. He just felt horrible. He kissed her head, to let her know he's there, to let him know that she was there too. "I'm so sorry if I hurt you or scared you."
"It's okay. How could you know?"
"Donna, promise me, promise me that you will tell me when I make you feel uncomfortable."
"I'm fine Harvey. I was scared. I'm not gonna lie to you. But I'm glad you're here now. I'm fine, really, just… please don't touch my neck." she whispered back.
"Of course." he whispered and hugged her tighter. Harvey pulled the blanket over their bodies and turned to wrap Donna entirely into his embrace. He wanted to make her feel protected, not caged, so he asked if it was okay and she nodded. He kissed her forehead and whispered that she should try to sleep now. Harvey waited until Donna fell into a deep slumber before he allowed himself to rest too. Before he fell asleep he wondered if Donna was afraid of him. If she was scared that he could hurt her like that stranger did two years ago. If his actions tonight caused her pain or fear and if she would regret her choices when she woke up the next morning.