It's a lazy Sunday morning, and damn the man, with his hand pressed firmly down against her lower belly, his tongue flicking gently, it's like he's in no rush whatsoever. She takes a deep breath, tries to calm her racing heart, tries to relax her muscles.
He moves at his own pace, two fingers nearly still inside her, twitching ever-so-slightly upwards towards that sweet spot that makes her groan and shudder. His knees are spread to hold her open for him, and he can feel her trembling. Flicking his eyes upwards, he sees her toss her head left, then right, her beautiful mouth open and panting.
"Please, Harvey… Please?" Her voice is hoarse, gravelly.
He pauses and looks up, smirks when she groans.
"Shh…. Breathe, Donna." He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh lightly, while keeping his eyes on her face.
"Nnngh…." She squeezes her eyes shut, and he can see her fighting to relax, to accept the slow, maddening pace he's set.
He bites down around the flesh he's just kissed, starting softly and increasing the pressure over long seconds until she's bucking, gasping, crying out. He can see slow tears running down her cheeks now, and her skin's broken out in sweat. He rocks his fingers now, giving her just enough pleasure to help her deal with the sharp bite of his teeth.
She groans deep and low, relaxing as the endorphins rush through her. Her fingers and toes tingle as the blood rushes between her legs, her clit and lips throbbing.
Easing his teeth away, he murmurs "That's it… You're doing so well for me."
And that's all it takes, and she's coming all in a rush, a throbbing, all-consuming pleasure. She can hear herself babbling, but somehow the words just don't make sense. His fingers just rock lightly inside her, urging her on. He's brought her to this point twice this morning already, pushing her gently, but inexorably back to this peak of arousal each time.
As soon as he realizes what's happening, he brings his mouth back to the hood covering her clit, pressing his tongue carefully against it and moving it in tiny, tiny circles.
When her breathing starts to slow, a giggle escapes her, and she clamps a hand over her mouth, looking down at him. She's almost drunk on how good this feels, and he's got that self-satisfied smirk on his face again, the one he wears when he's feeling particularly pleased with himself.
Harvey eases his fingers out of her gently, sliding up so their eyes are level with each other. He lies down on his side, facing her, his hand splayed out against her stomach.
"Beautiful," he says.
"Sensational," she grins.
They've been here before. Slow, lazy mornings, and frantic, consuming nights. He's always known how to push her, to press until he gets a reaction. And she, she's always known when not to push. When to leave him alone, until he's almost twitchy with it.