For all of you who have hung in there with Jed and Donna for this story,
here's the reward. Enjoy!
POV: Donna Spoilers: none Rating: R (You've been warned.) Disclaimer: Although I wish Donna and Jed were mine (especially Jed), they are not.
Love's Creation - Chapter Five A West Wing Story
by MAHC
Donna Bartlet shifted in the chair, trying without any success to locate a comfortable position, if only for a minute or two. She sighed, and felt her husband's fingers squeeze hers gently, rubbing the left hand finger that the ring he gave her no longer encircled. No, that ring hung on a chain around her neck. Hung there because her fingers now had swollen in the last days of pregnancy to the point that she decided not to fight it anymore. On or off? Off, at least for the duration. But on immediately after that.
His touch still sent electric shocks through her body; his glance still provoked heated images and desires, but she knew they were waiting now. Waiting until the baby was born. Waiting out of concern, just in case their actions caused harm. But mostly waiting because it had become just too damned hard. Finding a good position was difficult and most evenings they just held each other with her reclined against him, his legs on either side of her, on the couch. But he had not complained once, had merely grinned at her and promised her deliciously intriguing post-partum scenarios that left her teased and tingling. "After the baby comes - "
The baby. That was why they were there. Although she was just now coming into an acceptable time frame for the birth publicly, privately she knew she had passed that time, and her body grew more cumbersome and miserable with each day. Her weekly visits became dreaded pronouncements that "it shouldn't be long, now."
Yeah. Heard that before.
She looked up at Dr. Carlstein, unable to push the stark begging from her face. The obstetrician smiled sympathetically. "You're ten days past your due date, Mrs. Bartlet," she explained.
Don't have to tell me that, Donna thought.
"Still, the baby's not too big, yet. I'd really like to wait just a couple of days longer before we induce. It's better on you and on the baby."
Sighing, Donna glanced at Jed, who tried to lend his support without actually carrying the child for her.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "Two more days? This has got to be the most stubborn kid - "
"Sorry," Jed grinned.
"What?"
"I guess she's already started taking after me," he joked.
The doctor chuckled and Donna figured she would have probably found it funnier if she hadn't been so damned miserable. Nevertheless, she tried not to show her irritation, knowing it was totally undeserved.
"Yeah," she mumbled.
Jed turned to the doctor, brow lifted. "Isn't there anything we can do?"
"Well," she said hesitantly, "there are - uh - methods that some couples have found speed things up."
Donna brightened and wondered why Jed had suddenly colored slightly. "Like?" she prompted, the eagerness bouncing in her voice.
Now the doctor actually looked a little uncomfortable, too. She shot a glance at the President before answering. "Ah, I have had prospective parents tell me that - that having sexual relations - intercourse - can trigger labor." She avoided Jed's fiery gaze.
"Is it safe?" he asked.
Donna saw the hesitancy warring with excitement in his eyes. Under doctor's orders, they had not had sex during his recuperation, and by the time he was released from those limitations, she had been the reluctant party pooper. That made two months of celibacy, but now - now their orders had done a 180-degree turn.
"Yes, sir," Carlstein assured him. "As a matter of fact, labor initiated that way is preferable to artificial induction. Natural."
He regarded both women for a moment, then apparently overcame any embarrassment he had felt and broke out into a wide grin. Donna punched him in the arm. "Hey!" he protested. "Doctor's orders."
The doctor blushed, but smiled in obvious surprise at the boyish glee in her President's eyes. "Yes, sir," she confirmed.
"Okay, Doc. Thanks for your help." He stood quickly and pulled Donna to her feet. "We've gotta go, now."
"Jed!"
"You heard the doctor, Baby."
"But - "
"No buts. I had to follow orders for a whole month and they worked, didn't they?"
He had her there and she frowned at the irony. She had practically hog- tied him to the bed to make sure he totally recovered from the bout with acute bronchitis that had scared the hell out of all of them. Now he was pulling the same argument on her - possibly even the hog-tying aspect.
"So your turn," he gloated. "And what kind of husband would I be if I didn't do everything in my power to help?"
"You are incorrigible."
"Yes. And you love me."
"Yes, I do." Trailing behind him, his hand tugging her along, she managed a "Thank you" to the doctor before they were in the hall, surrounded by bemused agents, headed toward the limo, then the Residence, where they planned to carry out the doctor's orders to the very best of their abilities. And that was pretty damn good.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
She followed her husband through the White House, feeling almost as if they were sneaking away, if it weren't for the glimpse of their ubiquitous agents at regular intervals. Jonah followed discreetly and she wondered where he planned to light when they finally, well, got down to it. It was evening, after eleven, and the West Wing was quiet; the entire house seemed settled and asleep, even though she knew work still went on, probably, in townhouses and apartments in Georgetown and Arlington and Alexandria and Chevy Chase. He reached back, clasping her hand in his, and moving to the doors just ahead.
"Jed - "
"Shh," he cautioned, not looking back. Not for the first time, she watched him, his robe cinched around his waist, the golden hair curving on his bare calves, and wondered where they were going late at night in their robes. She wore her nightgown under hers. She wasn't sure what he wore besides the robe.
"We're going outside?"
"Looks like it."
"What - "
"You'll see."
The hedges shielded them as they eased down the walk and Donna suddenly knew their destination.
"Jed, you can't be serious!" she exclaimed, pulling back.
Her action forced him to stop, to swing around in obvious frustration. "Donna, it's okay. The agents have secured the area."
"But what if - "
"No. This will work."
She sighed, not convinced, but the eagerness on his face, the way his hair fell over his forehead, and the intriguing mystery of what he wore under the robe won her over.
"Okay," she agreed and was treated to a happy grin.
"We couldn't use the hot tub," he explained as they walked the last few feet. "Too hot. I checked with the doctor."
"You asked the doctor about - "
He shrugged. "Well, she's the one that told us to. Anyway, so then I figured, what about the pool? It's heated, but not much, and it will provide the buoyancy we need to - well - to be flexible." He had stopped beside the White House swimming pool, usually known as the Ford Pool for the President who installed it. The water shimmered darkly against the reflective light, but promised enough privacy to be inviting, especially since she knew the secret service stood guard nearby - but not too close, she hoped. Jonah had vanished.
Hesitantly, she tipped in a toe and was surprised to find him exactly right. The water was warm, not quite bath temperature, but quite nice. "You 're really planning to - to - in the pool?"
He grinned. "Why not?"
Why not, indeed? Suddenly she felt adventurous, risky. Suppose there was a reporter hiding nearby? Suppose a helicopter flew over? Suppose - But she knew those things wouldn't happen. Still, the mere possibility made the situation all the more exciting.
"I didn't bring my suit," she told him.
"You won't need it." Oh, the snap in his eyes with that remark. She felt a twinge between her thighs at his blatant promise.
He stepped toward her, hands at her waist, loosening the ties that held the robe closed. Lifting her arms to give him easy access, she smiled when he got a look at the sheer black short nightie Margaret had bought her earlier in her pregnancy. He licked his lips unconsciously and pushed the robe from her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing her with soft, gentle lips. His hands smoothed the material over her breasts before his mouth pressed against them. She moaned and fought to remain standing, hoping the agents weren't listening too closely.
Maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because her hormones had been so screwed up. Whatever the reason, she found her desire escalating rapidly. Taking his face between her hands, she probed his mouth hard and deep with her tongue, then took his tongue and sucked sensuously, mimicking actions she had taken on other parts of him before. He groaned, giving in to her pace, her urgency. She knew he felt it, too. He had gone without just as long.
Her fingers reached for his belt, untied the ends and let the robe fall open. Oh yes! She had hoped to find exactly that: only his bare body, very masculine and very hard and very ready for her. She tossed the robe on top of hers and turned back to him, slowly curling her fingers around the swollen shaft, caressing him lower. His gasp reinforced her movements, but she knew things wouldn't stay slow. Already, her breath had quickened, her heart pumped faster, harder.
Sliding the gown from her body, he took her hand and led her into the shallows of the pool. The warm water swirled around her, lifted her, so that she felt light again, agile almost. Lifting her in his arms, he cradled her body like a baby's, letting her float against him. He continued to support her with his left arm, but moved his right down to rub her legs along the thighs, outside, then inside, inching higher until he brushed her gently and sneaked warm fingers inside. Oh! That felt good - too good, but she couldn't help arching against him, pushing his probe deeper. He leaned down to kiss her, to brush her lips with the lightest touch. Then he straightened and withdrew his fingers, and she moaned at the loss.
She stood and urged him back toward the steps, motioning with her hand for him to stand on the bottom step. He tried to draw her against him, but she threw a hand up between them and shook her head. With a heated smile, she knelt in the shallow water and ran her fingers across the tip of his erection. As he looked down at her, she eased forward to take him in her mouth, please when his eyes closed and his head fell back in delicious agony.
"Holy Mary," he groaned as her teeth slid lightly over the smooth skin.
His hand fell to cradle her head, urging her harder against him. She drew him in, then tugged back, sucking gently at first, then more forcefully, until his accelerated breathing and tight muscles told her he was too close. Somehow, he gathered enough willpower to push her away, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it.
"Baby," he ground out between clenched teeth, "if you keep that up, we'll miss the whole purpose of this activity."
Pulling back, she grinned at him. "Oh, I'll keep it up, all right."
"Come here," he ordered, tugging at her shoulders, voice gruff, but eyes soft.
She rose and stepped as close to him as she could get with her huge belly between them. Turning her so that she faced away from him, he drew her back against him and sat, pulling her down; she pushed back, enjoying the hard heat pressing against her buttocks. Now she had an idea about what he wanted to do, or at least how he wanted to do it. His hands tickled, caressed, and rubbed over her belly and breasts. She felt the pulse, heard the groan and knew that neither of them would last long.
In support of her theory, he pulled her onto his lap. "Donna," he whispered, "you doin' okay?"
"Oh yeah," she breathed. "Oh yeah." He guided himself to the familiar entrance, pushed a little until she felt the thick head slide in. Oh, she had missed that feeling.
"Let me know if you need me to slow down," he told her.
Fat chance. "Uh uh." She moaned encouragement, relishing the feeling of him moving inside her again, of his warm presence, of his fullness.
"Still okay?" She couldn't tell if he was teasing or serious.
"Yes," she hissed. "Go on."
With another thrust of his hips, his hands holding her steady, he sank deep inside, unable and unwilling to suppress a gasp of pleasure himself. It had been a long time for them. His lips found her shoulders, her neck, nibbled on them, licked the water from them.
"Donna," he whispered at her ear. "This feels too good. I don't know how long - "
"Me, too," she agreed, her body aching for him to move, to pump hard. "I'm ready," she moaned. "I'm ready, Jed."
Her hands grabbed his thighs, giving herself leverage to arch against him as they began to move. He pulled back, then pushed upward and the feeling of him sliding in and out was too exquisite to suppress a loud groan. She half expected to see Ron crash through the hedges he was probably loitering behind, but Jed Bartlet's secret service had learned from experience under fire. They knew when to move and when to stay. No one interrupted them as her husband's hand reached around to move between her legs, his touch electrifying her, shattering any concerns she might have had about Ron, or Jonah, or anyone but the man who held her right then.
"Still okay?" he asked again.
"No."
Immediately, he stopped, pulling his hand away, stilling his movement. "Donna?" Concern. Alarm. Guilt.
Even though she knew he didn't see her smile, she figured he would hear it in her voice. "Come on, Big Boy, show me what you can do." It occurred to her that Ron probably heard that, too, but she didn't care. Didn't care that it was loud and corny. Didn't care that both of them would probably laugh about it later. Didn't care about anything except finishing what they had started.
Neither, apparently, did Jed.
She felt his first response, and closed her eyes at the sensation. His second response was a low, hoarse agreement to do exactly what she demanded. And the third response carried him into her harder and deeper than he had allowed himself to go in several months. Suddenly, his hands were every where, the sharp pulses from his fingers and the tingle of his mouth on her neck connecting in a spider web of high voltage. She arched her back, met his full solid thrusts with equal force.
They were both breathing hard, both trying to get even closer, which was impossible, she knew, but she felt the need to try, nevertheless. Her hands grabbed at his thighs, digging into the flesh, hanging on for the wild ride. Still, the suddenness of that ultimate sensation surprised her, overtook her with little warning and she cried out as her muscles erupted in the dizzying spasms. She jerked forward against his hand, then back against his hips. And he did not stop, could not stop, she realized. More than anything, she wanted him with her.
"Come with me, Jed," she gasped, still arching against him. "I need you to."
Opening his mouth in a groan rich with passion, he followed obediently, choking out her name as he thrust up, pushing deep inside her, coming in hard, burning pulses that she felt at the very core of her body. The sensation threw her into even more intense spasms and she clutched at him, urging him to go deeper, push harder, which he did, over and over, until they both shared a final, incredible pulse of pleasure and fell against each other, his arms around her belly, her head on his chest.
For a long time, except for their ragged breathing, there was silence, no talking, no movement. She thought again of their protection and hoped no one got worried enough to come see if they had both had heart attacks. His heart pounded against her back, and he fought to get control of his struggling lungs.
Suddenly concerned, she asked, "You okay?"
He grunted, perhaps the only sound he was capable of at the moment.
"Jed?" A little sharper now. Don't scare me.
Deep breath. "Mmm?"
"Are you okay?" She stirred, sitting up and forcing his chin from its resting place on top of her head.
"Hey," he protested, and her heart could beat again.
"Are you having trouble breathing?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Jed?"
"I'm fine, Donna," he assured her, amusement mixed with a slice of irritation in his tone.
All right. Let it go. "I've missed you," she sighed.
He roused himself and slowly withdrew, easing her off. As the cooler air touched her wet skin, shivers raced across, pulling chill bumps to dots the surface.
"Too bad this pool isn't indoors," she noted, ducking back down so only her neck and head broke the surface.
"It was," he said, taking both her hands in his and gliding out into deeper water. "Or at least there was an indoor pool. FDR had it built so he could exercise his legs."
They floated peacefully, touching each other, fingers just dancing lightly and randomly. "What happened to it?"
He snorted. "Ironically, Nixon filled it in for more press corps space."
"Bet he regretted that," she figured.
Water swirled gently around them as he guided her through the water "Yeah. Did it work?"
"You mean Nixon's plan?"
"Sex."
"Oh." She assessed her body. The ripples of pleasure were fading still, and she felt nothing but release and peace. "I don't know. Not yet, anyway."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to try again then, huh?" The grin in his voice matched the curve of his lips, and when she ran her hands down his body, she felt an immediate response.
"I guess so," she agreed, following him back to the steps. As he moved inside her once more, she hoped their agents didn't mind their night patrol because they would be on it for a little while longer. And as she heard Jed's gasp and her own groan, she decided Ron and Jonah had probably figured that out already.
POV: Donna Spoilers: none Rating: R (You've been warned.) Disclaimer: Although I wish Donna and Jed were mine (especially Jed), they are not.
Love's Creation - Chapter Five A West Wing Story
by MAHC
Donna Bartlet shifted in the chair, trying without any success to locate a comfortable position, if only for a minute or two. She sighed, and felt her husband's fingers squeeze hers gently, rubbing the left hand finger that the ring he gave her no longer encircled. No, that ring hung on a chain around her neck. Hung there because her fingers now had swollen in the last days of pregnancy to the point that she decided not to fight it anymore. On or off? Off, at least for the duration. But on immediately after that.
His touch still sent electric shocks through her body; his glance still provoked heated images and desires, but she knew they were waiting now. Waiting until the baby was born. Waiting out of concern, just in case their actions caused harm. But mostly waiting because it had become just too damned hard. Finding a good position was difficult and most evenings they just held each other with her reclined against him, his legs on either side of her, on the couch. But he had not complained once, had merely grinned at her and promised her deliciously intriguing post-partum scenarios that left her teased and tingling. "After the baby comes - "
The baby. That was why they were there. Although she was just now coming into an acceptable time frame for the birth publicly, privately she knew she had passed that time, and her body grew more cumbersome and miserable with each day. Her weekly visits became dreaded pronouncements that "it shouldn't be long, now."
Yeah. Heard that before.
She looked up at Dr. Carlstein, unable to push the stark begging from her face. The obstetrician smiled sympathetically. "You're ten days past your due date, Mrs. Bartlet," she explained.
Don't have to tell me that, Donna thought.
"Still, the baby's not too big, yet. I'd really like to wait just a couple of days longer before we induce. It's better on you and on the baby."
Sighing, Donna glanced at Jed, who tried to lend his support without actually carrying the child for her.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "Two more days? This has got to be the most stubborn kid - "
"Sorry," Jed grinned.
"What?"
"I guess she's already started taking after me," he joked.
The doctor chuckled and Donna figured she would have probably found it funnier if she hadn't been so damned miserable. Nevertheless, she tried not to show her irritation, knowing it was totally undeserved.
"Yeah," she mumbled.
Jed turned to the doctor, brow lifted. "Isn't there anything we can do?"
"Well," she said hesitantly, "there are - uh - methods that some couples have found speed things up."
Donna brightened and wondered why Jed had suddenly colored slightly. "Like?" she prompted, the eagerness bouncing in her voice.
Now the doctor actually looked a little uncomfortable, too. She shot a glance at the President before answering. "Ah, I have had prospective parents tell me that - that having sexual relations - intercourse - can trigger labor." She avoided Jed's fiery gaze.
"Is it safe?" he asked.
Donna saw the hesitancy warring with excitement in his eyes. Under doctor's orders, they had not had sex during his recuperation, and by the time he was released from those limitations, she had been the reluctant party pooper. That made two months of celibacy, but now - now their orders had done a 180-degree turn.
"Yes, sir," Carlstein assured him. "As a matter of fact, labor initiated that way is preferable to artificial induction. Natural."
He regarded both women for a moment, then apparently overcame any embarrassment he had felt and broke out into a wide grin. Donna punched him in the arm. "Hey!" he protested. "Doctor's orders."
The doctor blushed, but smiled in obvious surprise at the boyish glee in her President's eyes. "Yes, sir," she confirmed.
"Okay, Doc. Thanks for your help." He stood quickly and pulled Donna to her feet. "We've gotta go, now."
"Jed!"
"You heard the doctor, Baby."
"But - "
"No buts. I had to follow orders for a whole month and they worked, didn't they?"
He had her there and she frowned at the irony. She had practically hog- tied him to the bed to make sure he totally recovered from the bout with acute bronchitis that had scared the hell out of all of them. Now he was pulling the same argument on her - possibly even the hog-tying aspect.
"So your turn," he gloated. "And what kind of husband would I be if I didn't do everything in my power to help?"
"You are incorrigible."
"Yes. And you love me."
"Yes, I do." Trailing behind him, his hand tugging her along, she managed a "Thank you" to the doctor before they were in the hall, surrounded by bemused agents, headed toward the limo, then the Residence, where they planned to carry out the doctor's orders to the very best of their abilities. And that was pretty damn good.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
She followed her husband through the White House, feeling almost as if they were sneaking away, if it weren't for the glimpse of their ubiquitous agents at regular intervals. Jonah followed discreetly and she wondered where he planned to light when they finally, well, got down to it. It was evening, after eleven, and the West Wing was quiet; the entire house seemed settled and asleep, even though she knew work still went on, probably, in townhouses and apartments in Georgetown and Arlington and Alexandria and Chevy Chase. He reached back, clasping her hand in his, and moving to the doors just ahead.
"Jed - "
"Shh," he cautioned, not looking back. Not for the first time, she watched him, his robe cinched around his waist, the golden hair curving on his bare calves, and wondered where they were going late at night in their robes. She wore her nightgown under hers. She wasn't sure what he wore besides the robe.
"We're going outside?"
"Looks like it."
"What - "
"You'll see."
The hedges shielded them as they eased down the walk and Donna suddenly knew their destination.
"Jed, you can't be serious!" she exclaimed, pulling back.
Her action forced him to stop, to swing around in obvious frustration. "Donna, it's okay. The agents have secured the area."
"But what if - "
"No. This will work."
She sighed, not convinced, but the eagerness on his face, the way his hair fell over his forehead, and the intriguing mystery of what he wore under the robe won her over.
"Okay," she agreed and was treated to a happy grin.
"We couldn't use the hot tub," he explained as they walked the last few feet. "Too hot. I checked with the doctor."
"You asked the doctor about - "
He shrugged. "Well, she's the one that told us to. Anyway, so then I figured, what about the pool? It's heated, but not much, and it will provide the buoyancy we need to - well - to be flexible." He had stopped beside the White House swimming pool, usually known as the Ford Pool for the President who installed it. The water shimmered darkly against the reflective light, but promised enough privacy to be inviting, especially since she knew the secret service stood guard nearby - but not too close, she hoped. Jonah had vanished.
Hesitantly, she tipped in a toe and was surprised to find him exactly right. The water was warm, not quite bath temperature, but quite nice. "You 're really planning to - to - in the pool?"
He grinned. "Why not?"
Why not, indeed? Suddenly she felt adventurous, risky. Suppose there was a reporter hiding nearby? Suppose a helicopter flew over? Suppose - But she knew those things wouldn't happen. Still, the mere possibility made the situation all the more exciting.
"I didn't bring my suit," she told him.
"You won't need it." Oh, the snap in his eyes with that remark. She felt a twinge between her thighs at his blatant promise.
He stepped toward her, hands at her waist, loosening the ties that held the robe closed. Lifting her arms to give him easy access, she smiled when he got a look at the sheer black short nightie Margaret had bought her earlier in her pregnancy. He licked his lips unconsciously and pushed the robe from her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing her with soft, gentle lips. His hands smoothed the material over her breasts before his mouth pressed against them. She moaned and fought to remain standing, hoping the agents weren't listening too closely.
Maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because her hormones had been so screwed up. Whatever the reason, she found her desire escalating rapidly. Taking his face between her hands, she probed his mouth hard and deep with her tongue, then took his tongue and sucked sensuously, mimicking actions she had taken on other parts of him before. He groaned, giving in to her pace, her urgency. She knew he felt it, too. He had gone without just as long.
Her fingers reached for his belt, untied the ends and let the robe fall open. Oh yes! She had hoped to find exactly that: only his bare body, very masculine and very hard and very ready for her. She tossed the robe on top of hers and turned back to him, slowly curling her fingers around the swollen shaft, caressing him lower. His gasp reinforced her movements, but she knew things wouldn't stay slow. Already, her breath had quickened, her heart pumped faster, harder.
Sliding the gown from her body, he took her hand and led her into the shallows of the pool. The warm water swirled around her, lifted her, so that she felt light again, agile almost. Lifting her in his arms, he cradled her body like a baby's, letting her float against him. He continued to support her with his left arm, but moved his right down to rub her legs along the thighs, outside, then inside, inching higher until he brushed her gently and sneaked warm fingers inside. Oh! That felt good - too good, but she couldn't help arching against him, pushing his probe deeper. He leaned down to kiss her, to brush her lips with the lightest touch. Then he straightened and withdrew his fingers, and she moaned at the loss.
She stood and urged him back toward the steps, motioning with her hand for him to stand on the bottom step. He tried to draw her against him, but she threw a hand up between them and shook her head. With a heated smile, she knelt in the shallow water and ran her fingers across the tip of his erection. As he looked down at her, she eased forward to take him in her mouth, please when his eyes closed and his head fell back in delicious agony.
"Holy Mary," he groaned as her teeth slid lightly over the smooth skin.
His hand fell to cradle her head, urging her harder against him. She drew him in, then tugged back, sucking gently at first, then more forcefully, until his accelerated breathing and tight muscles told her he was too close. Somehow, he gathered enough willpower to push her away, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it.
"Baby," he ground out between clenched teeth, "if you keep that up, we'll miss the whole purpose of this activity."
Pulling back, she grinned at him. "Oh, I'll keep it up, all right."
"Come here," he ordered, tugging at her shoulders, voice gruff, but eyes soft.
She rose and stepped as close to him as she could get with her huge belly between them. Turning her so that she faced away from him, he drew her back against him and sat, pulling her down; she pushed back, enjoying the hard heat pressing against her buttocks. Now she had an idea about what he wanted to do, or at least how he wanted to do it. His hands tickled, caressed, and rubbed over her belly and breasts. She felt the pulse, heard the groan and knew that neither of them would last long.
In support of her theory, he pulled her onto his lap. "Donna," he whispered, "you doin' okay?"
"Oh yeah," she breathed. "Oh yeah." He guided himself to the familiar entrance, pushed a little until she felt the thick head slide in. Oh, she had missed that feeling.
"Let me know if you need me to slow down," he told her.
Fat chance. "Uh uh." She moaned encouragement, relishing the feeling of him moving inside her again, of his warm presence, of his fullness.
"Still okay?" She couldn't tell if he was teasing or serious.
"Yes," she hissed. "Go on."
With another thrust of his hips, his hands holding her steady, he sank deep inside, unable and unwilling to suppress a gasp of pleasure himself. It had been a long time for them. His lips found her shoulders, her neck, nibbled on them, licked the water from them.
"Donna," he whispered at her ear. "This feels too good. I don't know how long - "
"Me, too," she agreed, her body aching for him to move, to pump hard. "I'm ready," she moaned. "I'm ready, Jed."
Her hands grabbed his thighs, giving herself leverage to arch against him as they began to move. He pulled back, then pushed upward and the feeling of him sliding in and out was too exquisite to suppress a loud groan. She half expected to see Ron crash through the hedges he was probably loitering behind, but Jed Bartlet's secret service had learned from experience under fire. They knew when to move and when to stay. No one interrupted them as her husband's hand reached around to move between her legs, his touch electrifying her, shattering any concerns she might have had about Ron, or Jonah, or anyone but the man who held her right then.
"Still okay?" he asked again.
"No."
Immediately, he stopped, pulling his hand away, stilling his movement. "Donna?" Concern. Alarm. Guilt.
Even though she knew he didn't see her smile, she figured he would hear it in her voice. "Come on, Big Boy, show me what you can do." It occurred to her that Ron probably heard that, too, but she didn't care. Didn't care that it was loud and corny. Didn't care that both of them would probably laugh about it later. Didn't care about anything except finishing what they had started.
Neither, apparently, did Jed.
She felt his first response, and closed her eyes at the sensation. His second response was a low, hoarse agreement to do exactly what she demanded. And the third response carried him into her harder and deeper than he had allowed himself to go in several months. Suddenly, his hands were every where, the sharp pulses from his fingers and the tingle of his mouth on her neck connecting in a spider web of high voltage. She arched her back, met his full solid thrusts with equal force.
They were both breathing hard, both trying to get even closer, which was impossible, she knew, but she felt the need to try, nevertheless. Her hands grabbed at his thighs, digging into the flesh, hanging on for the wild ride. Still, the suddenness of that ultimate sensation surprised her, overtook her with little warning and she cried out as her muscles erupted in the dizzying spasms. She jerked forward against his hand, then back against his hips. And he did not stop, could not stop, she realized. More than anything, she wanted him with her.
"Come with me, Jed," she gasped, still arching against him. "I need you to."
Opening his mouth in a groan rich with passion, he followed obediently, choking out her name as he thrust up, pushing deep inside her, coming in hard, burning pulses that she felt at the very core of her body. The sensation threw her into even more intense spasms and she clutched at him, urging him to go deeper, push harder, which he did, over and over, until they both shared a final, incredible pulse of pleasure and fell against each other, his arms around her belly, her head on his chest.
For a long time, except for their ragged breathing, there was silence, no talking, no movement. She thought again of their protection and hoped no one got worried enough to come see if they had both had heart attacks. His heart pounded against her back, and he fought to get control of his struggling lungs.
Suddenly concerned, she asked, "You okay?"
He grunted, perhaps the only sound he was capable of at the moment.
"Jed?" A little sharper now. Don't scare me.
Deep breath. "Mmm?"
"Are you okay?" She stirred, sitting up and forcing his chin from its resting place on top of her head.
"Hey," he protested, and her heart could beat again.
"Are you having trouble breathing?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Jed?"
"I'm fine, Donna," he assured her, amusement mixed with a slice of irritation in his tone.
All right. Let it go. "I've missed you," she sighed.
He roused himself and slowly withdrew, easing her off. As the cooler air touched her wet skin, shivers raced across, pulling chill bumps to dots the surface.
"Too bad this pool isn't indoors," she noted, ducking back down so only her neck and head broke the surface.
"It was," he said, taking both her hands in his and gliding out into deeper water. "Or at least there was an indoor pool. FDR had it built so he could exercise his legs."
They floated peacefully, touching each other, fingers just dancing lightly and randomly. "What happened to it?"
He snorted. "Ironically, Nixon filled it in for more press corps space."
"Bet he regretted that," she figured.
Water swirled gently around them as he guided her through the water "Yeah. Did it work?"
"You mean Nixon's plan?"
"Sex."
"Oh." She assessed her body. The ripples of pleasure were fading still, and she felt nothing but release and peace. "I don't know. Not yet, anyway."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to try again then, huh?" The grin in his voice matched the curve of his lips, and when she ran her hands down his body, she felt an immediate response.
"I guess so," she agreed, following him back to the steps. As he moved inside her once more, she hoped their agents didn't mind their night patrol because they would be on it for a little while longer. And as she heard Jed's gasp and her own groan, she decided Ron and Jonah had probably figured that out already.