A/N: I thought I'd preface this with: I don't like smut. I really don't like writing it, I don't particularly like reading it, yet somehow this fic wrote itself very quickly. So I hope you enjoy it, please let me know if you do. I still can't believe I'm publishing some completely plotless porn but hey, here we are! Massive thanks to Luisa for being a beta wizard.
"We put it out of our minds and we never mention it again."
Harvey found himself dwelling on those words more than he cared to. The memory would creep up on him in the dead of night as he lied in an empty bed, in the morning when he poured his coffee or midday when he'd glance out of his office and see auburn locks against porcelain skin he was forbidden to touch.
She had known it then and she probably still knew it now; Harvey was not always a gentleman.
Donna had arrived that morning in a dark green dress that hugged every inch of her figure—Harvey loved her in green. The neckline plunged deep, cleavage on display and, god, he couldn't help but imagine his face buried in it.
He tried to push the sordid thoughts out of his mind and he was successful for a while, until he returned to his office after a meeting to see her bent over his desk, shuffling papers and he felt his dick twitch in the constraints of his pants.
He cleared his throat as he entered and she whipped her head around to look at him.
"The Weiss filing came through," she smiled.
"You didn't wait for me to come back just to say that," he said and watched her smirk.
"No, I didn't," Donna replied, her eyes followed him around his desk to his seat. "I wanted to be out of the office by 6 this evening."
"Hot date?" Harvey asked jovially, the air that caught in his throat hidden behind playful eyes. She tilted her head with a coy smile.
"You offering?" She scoffed and he panicked momentarily before playing along with a cock of his brow. Panic masked. "No, I was hoping to get to a specific yoga class, the teacher is only around once a quarter."
"Yeah, no problem," Harvey said and she smiled a thank you before leaving. He watched her hips sway, eyes travelled down her long legs to the killer heels she armed herself with.
He tried to sigh the thoughts away; thoughts of her legs around his waist, his hands holding her thighs in place as the heat of her centre emanated against him.
He began to rifle through the file in front of him, eyes scanned the words on the page desperate for a distraction.
But he didn't care.
He didn't care about a single word he was reading, if it could even be called reading. It was more like his eyes staring at meaningless black shapes on a white piece of paper. He couldn't relay anything in the file, his mind preoccupied with the figure outside his office who was typing away on her computer.
He just couldn't help himself as his mind entered sordid territory once again.
He did this, sometimes; he thought about what he would do if circumstances were different. If she weren't so important to him, if she weren't too precious to lose.
He was stuck on the image of her leaning over his desk to give him documents. He imagined silently emerging behind her, like an animal stalking its prey. He'd snake his arms around her waist, press his bulging member into her ass to let her know what she did to him, pull her flush against him.
She would hum out a moan that would make him twitch and he'd bury his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her.
She'd whine out his name and tell him now wasn't the time, he'd tell her there's no better time and place a kiss against her freckled skin. He'd trail kisses down her neck as he peeled the dark green fabric away from her shoulder and he'd feel the goosebumps that appeared with his touch.
Then Donna would turn within his grasp, stopping him in his tracks to fuse her lips with his. It would shoot right to his bulge, his pants would feel even tighter and a low groan would vibrate in his throat.
She'd stare at him through hooded eyes, dark and listful and hungry, as her hand would travel south and clutch his clothed cock. She'd stroke him through the fabric, once, twice… her hand would then move to the zip, fumble to undo it before it'd reach inside his boxers.
Her touch would make him hiss, fingers slightly cold and his member so sensitive he was unsure how long he'd last. Her finger would brush over its tip, smear the precum down his length as she pumped and he would have to stop her sooner than he wanted for fear he'd lose it right then and there.
He would kiss her again and step them closer to his desk, lift her slightly to set her down on its edge. His hand would begin to lower, his fingers leaving the tips of her hair and tracing the side of her breast. He would go to unzip her dress, gain access to every inch of her skin, but she'd stop him to say, "I need you."
To which he would involuntarily wet his lips with his tongue and a Cheshire Cat grin would appear on his face as his hands would find the hem of her dress and slowly push it up her thighs.
He would watch her take a deep breath as his hands neared her centre, thumbs circling the skin at the apex of her thighs as she would hum in anticipation and desperation. She wouldn't beg, even though he'd know she'd want to, and it would make him want to tease her even more. However, he'd remember where they were and that they'd need to be quick.
His thumb would brush over her covered centre and find her panties wet to the touch, which would of course elicit a smirk as his fingers crept to the hem of her panties. She would lean back onto her elbows, lift herself up slightly and watch as he would yank her panties down and nearly dribble at the sight of her.
Then his mouth would be straight to her exposed clit, tongue flicking and tasting and Donna would try—and fail—not to moan.
Her hands would dart to his hair and he'd revel in the feeling of her tugging it. And when he sucked she would hiss and her breathing would grow erratic. And when he inserted a finger she'd almost cry out, which would only make him add a second digit, curling them inside.
He'd let her get close, feel her walls begin to clench only to stop before she could let go and Donna would huff in annoyance at the loss of contact.
Harvey would grab onto his cock and align himself with her centre. Her legs would wrap around his waist, heels still on at his request, and he'd join their bodies in one single thrust.
He would hum out a moan and she would inhale, sharply. He'd still to let her adjust until she wiggled her hips and he would slowly draw out, only to thrust himself deeply inside once again. He'd build his speed, set a rhythm he would try to match with his thumb circling her clit.
He would watch her tumble over the edge first, exploding around him as her whole body trembled and the image alongside her convulsing walls would pull him into the oblivion with her.
They'd stay there, joined at the centre as he softened inside, and his head would fall into her cleavage as she held him there. He'd feel her rapid heartbeat begin to return to normal and her breath return.
"Harvey," she'd say. Except...
"Harvey," he heard again, snapping him from his very vivid imagination and his eyes landed on her sat in her cubicle. "Jessica wants to see you before you leave tonight," she said through the intercom and he nodded.
And goddamnit, how was he going to get rid of the tent in his pants before he next had to stand up?