A/N: This was inspired by a gorgeous edit by Nicole on twitter: /thedarvey/status/1659428545217835010?s=20
Title from "Drunk In Love" by Beyoncé. Hope you like it :)
She can feel his eyes on her like it's a laser beam, following her around the room and burning a path on her skin.
He wasn't supposed to be here, not really. Technically, all the name partners were invited, but Harvey couldn't give less of a shit about at-risk wildlife, and this particular gala isn't very ripe with prospective clients. The fact that he came can only mean one thing.
He knows Brendan is her friend and she wouldn't miss his fundraiser, and she also essentially admitted she'd be coming when they had their weekly management meeting on Monday and she mentioned she'd leave early today. Harvey is anything but stupid, especially when he has an agenda - which he clearly does given he's been willingly talking to Curtis Macmillan for the past fifteen minutes when he normally wouldn't even let the man reach him, all because the spot they're at gives him a good line of sight at where she's standing chatting with Brendan.
The truth is, she's not bothered; quite the opposite actually. There's a thrill in being watched by him, there always has been but especially so now that he's doing it unabashedly and she is fully aware of both the watching and of the intention behind the watching. She wants to show off for him - she flips her hair over her shoulder, leans conspicuously over the bar to request another champagne flute, touches Brendan's arm as she laughs at one of his jokes. He asks her to dance and she agrees promptly, following his lead on the dance floor and stealing long glances at Harvey, almost always catching his eyes, not looking away as he stares.
And oh, he stares. His eyes are fixed on her, have been all night no matter if he's talking to someone or listening to a story or having a drink. His stare is especially piercing right now, and she could almost mistake it for jealousy if it weren't for the fact that he knows very well he's the one who will get to have her tonight.
It's a dangerous game they've been playing. She doesn't fully understand it, doesn't really know why they're not actually talking, why they're not taking the plunge instead of just doing clandestine meetings coated in unnecessary shadows and secrecy. Neither one of them is seeing anyone, there is no reason why they couldn't just go for the real thing, except she thinks maybe Harvey still isn't ready, or maybe she isn't, or maybe, just maybe, this is all he actually wants, just sex, no real thing.
She sways in her resolve and her need to decipher their situation; sometimes she's kept up late into the night, overanalyzing, dissecting, idealizing. Other times, like tonight, she doesn't really care what it means, she just cares that it's happening, craves it desperately. No one makes her feel like Harvey, in more ways than one, and sometimes she doesn't care about what happens afterwards, she just wants to feel a bit of that.
As the night progresses, she grows more impatient, and she knows Harvey won't approach her first, which is equal parts flattering and aggravating, because it means he's giving her space to set the pace of their encounter but also that he knows she'll come to him like fish for bait. And God, when he gives her that look she is completely aware she is being baited but she couldn't care less.
The second Brendan leaves her in favor of a donor, her insides twist, heat simmering in her belly. She turns to look for him and quickly spots him by the bar, once again watching her. She makes her way over, stopping next to him and ordering a glass of water, careful not to draw too much attention because there are clients and acquaintances here and neither one of them wants whatever this is to become news.
She's not even looking at him anymore, hasn't spoken a word to him, when he finishes his last sip of whiskey and leans over subtly. "Room 132," he murmurs, barely above a whisper, and then walks away from her as if nothing had happened. It sends a chill down her spine and she waits a few minutes before trailing after him into the elevators. He's already gone, and she takes the time alone to ground herself and calm the jitters starting to appear.
As soon as he opens the door she knows she's in trouble, because his eyes are already pitch black. They stare at each other for a moment, seemingly savoring this final moment of tension between them before they let it loose. And then she steps inside.
The door has barely closed behind her and they're already devouring each other, the taste of his whiskey sweet on her tongue and his hand on her neck, maneuvering her head to grant himself more access. She tugs firmly on his lapels, keeping him close to her and breathing him in. He's careful not to mess up her hair, which she appreciates, but she doesn't have the same concern, ruffling his strands and running her fingers through them.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmurs in her ear, and just his husky voice and his words make her want to do whatever he asks of her, but she doesn't want to relinquish power like that just yet, so she swallows a whimper and forces herself to regain a little bit of her composure.
"You better not ruin this dress, Harvey, or I swear to God," she warns him almost sternly as her hands reach for his tie and undo the knot. He just grins wolfishly, clearly making no promises, though he knows very well she needs to go back down to the gala after this. As she works on unbuttoning his shirt, his palms slide down her back and squeeze her ass, pulling her tightly into him and kneading, and the feel of his big hands on her ass combined with the pressure she feels already straining his pants sends a surge of heat down her body, making her breathing speed up.
She reclaims his lips, kissing him sloppily before sliding down to his jaw and neck, sucking on his pulse point and leaving wet kisses on his skin. He tastes so good, and she aches for the day when she'll be able to just take her time to strip him down and lay him on the bed and just touch and taste every part of his body, breathe him in entirely, memorize every mole and make him a part of her. These nights aren't for that, they can't go slow and get too intimate because it might shatter the illusion that what they're doing is just casual and meaningless, so she takes what she can get instead, sucking on his skin and running her hands up his abs, feeling the muscles contract and shift under her touch.
After a moment, Harvey pulls back and turns her around, sweeping her hair to the side to kiss her neck and shoulder while he unzips her dress. He opens it all the way and slides it down slowly, kissing the path of skin it reveals, and she reaches for the nearby dresser to steady herself as she steps out of it and of her heels. He helps her by holding her waist in place, then drapes the dress over a chair, careful not to ruin it, like she asked, and her skin tingles with affection. She sighs as his hands run up her thighs, fingers pressing into the inner side of them and then going over to her ass to squeeze it again.
He nibbles on the skin there and she snickers, looking down at him over her shoulder, and he grins back at her, all boyish and playful, and her heart pinches a little in her chest. When he stands back up, she rids him of his shirt and jacket, running her palms down his naked back, taking in the muscles on his arms. Harvey has never been obsessed with his figure, but he cares about his health and body, exercises regularly, and it shows in the way his whole body is firm and defined without being burly. She loves it, thinks he is just the right amount of fit, and it becomes even more confirmed for her when he turns her around again and wraps his arms around her waist, keeping her in place as a hand splays itself low on her abdomen.
Her breath hitches and her core throbs in anticipation. He gives the junction of her neck and shoulder a bite and his other hand ventures lower, teasing her over her thong. His finger makes her realize she's already damp, and he groans low in her ear when he reaches the same conclusion. He goes slow, just rubbing along her seam over the lace, and it's ridiculous how affected she already is. He drags it out a bit, much to her chagrin, and just as she's about to complain he finally dips beneath the fabric, coating himself in her slickness, and Donna mewls in his arms, head resting back on his shoulder.
She thinks she can see him smirking out of the corner of her eye and it would be infuriating if his hand on her weren't so good. He teases her inner lips, then her entrance, and eventually makes his way up to her clit, circling softly just like he knows she likes. She whimpers, her body starting to twitch and spasm, and he holds her tighter and picks up his pace, clearly intent to have her writhing soon. She clings to his arm across her middle for purchase, desperate to hang on to something as he twirls and pinches and rubs, playing her like a fiddle until her knees buckle and she slides down a bit.
He tightens his hold even more, but she can feel her knees about to give out again and she doesn't want to fall, so she leans forward and rests her elbows on the dresser, feeling safer this way. Seeing she's no longer at risk of slipping, Harvey doubles his efforts, pumping a finger, then two, into her while his thumb continues teasing her clit. Donna moans, her hips pushing back against him, searching for friction, and his hard cock against her ass feels glorious. She rubs back, eager to give him a taste of his own medicine, and they fall into a rhythm, Harvey's free hand finding purchase on her shoulder while they grind against each other, his fingers inside her making her see stars.
When she feels her insides start to clench, one of her hands flies to his back, holding him against her as the coil inside her tightens more and more and more, his fingers never letting up, her eyes shut tight and her breath choppy until she's falling, coming with a cry as her walls contract violently around his fingers, his lips on her shoulder and his thumb caressing her clit gently as she rides through the waves.
She spins and catches his mouth in a hungry kiss, leaning against the dresser and hitching a leg around his waist so he can feel her drenched core against his straining erection. He hums into her mouth, his breath audibly labored, and it makes her feel so powerful that he gets this affected just by her pleasure alone.
Hoping to give a little of it back, she turns them in place so he's the one against the dresser and kneels to the floor, eagerly unbuttoning his slacks and pulling them down. His boxers are tented, and she licks her lips in anticipation. Good thing she packed her concealer and powder, she thinks, because she's definitely going to need a touch up after this. Getting rid of his underwear, his dick springs to attention right in front of her, and Donna shoots him one final, dirty look before she takes him into her mouth.
She starts by just licking and bobbing her head slowly, getting him slick enough, and she has barely started but Harvey is already choking back some groans as his dick twitches in her mouth. She works him thoroughly, not wasting any time but not going too fast either so that she can warm him up steadily like he did with her. There's something gloriously decadent about sucking him off in a random hotel room, unworried about her knees getting bruised because she'll put her long dress back on afterwards, with her hair made up and diamond earrings on her ears and an emerald sitting on the hand that's currently sliding up and down his cock. It's empowering - and hot -, this contrast of how prim and proper she looks while she chokes herself on his shaft, holding him deep inside her until she needs to pull back for air.
Harvey is clearly enjoying this just as much, because he keeps forcing himself to look down and watch her, but he only ever manages it for a couple of minutes before he's throwing his head back and moaning. He can't grab her hair like he likes to do because he'll mess it up, so he clings to the dresser, so tight she can see his knuckles turn white.
She speeds up, fondling his balls and bobbing her head quickly, then switching up to lick his slit and suck on the head. She works in that cycle for a few more minutes until he chokes out her name, grabbing her shoulder, and she lets him go with a pop. She can't go any further, because they won't have time to get him back up again, and she wants him inside her tonight.
He helps her stand up and kisses her, licking the inside of her mouth, and she hopes he can taste himself on her tongue. Her body is still buzzing, still yearning for him, and he must feel it from the heat she is emanating because he doesn't waste time getting them to bed; he just grabs her thighs and hoists her up and onto the dresser, which blessedly is the perfect height. She wraps her legs around his waist and he pulls her to the edge, his dick rubbing against her mound, slicking itself in her desire, getting ready for more.
She digs her fingers into his shoulders, almost shaking with anticipation, and goes to nibble on his earlobe, licking the shell of his ear and smiling to herself when he shivers as intended. He pushes against her in retaliation, dragging a gasp from her and making her toes curl. He is so fucking good at this, so good at teasing her and keeping her on edge, so good at making her feel absolutely everything, and she just wants him to fill her like only he can.
"Harvey," she pants against his temple, urging him on, and he gets the hint.
Taking hold of her hips to steady himself, he looks down at her, lines himself up with her entrance and thrusts, torturously slow, making sure she feels every inch that goes into her. She's dripping wet, but the friction is still delicious, and her jaw slacks around a silent gasp, her eyes fighting to stay open and staring into his. He bottoms out and grinds into her, brushing her clit, and she moans, her eyes finally falling closed and her head tipping back.
He latches on to her neck, sucking on her pulse point and pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. They sigh in unison, and he comes back up to kiss her again, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth until she whimpers. He picks up some rhythm, still fucking smoothly into her, letting her suck on his top lip.
She enjoys it for minutes on end, savoring the seamless undulations of his hips until she needs more. She drags her mouth to his jaw and scrapes her teeth against it. "Harder," she sighs, and feels his jaw working beneath her lips.
Apparently heeding her command, Harvey leans away and fixes her with a dark look. And then he reaches up to her arms and takes them both, sliding his hands down to her wrists and pinning them behind her on the dresser. The position leaves her immobile and open and him towering powerfully over her, and she thinks there's no other man she would let do this to her, leave her this vulnerable and pliant, much less in a casual encounter. But Harvey is different, he's seen every side of her, the powerful and the weak, the dominant and the submissive, the closed off and the trusting, and as much as they have hurt each other throughout their history, she still trusts him to be careful with her.
He steals a kiss from her, his hands holding hers in place, cautious not to hurt her. And then he pulls back and slams his hips into hers, their skins slapping and sending electric shocks all over her body. She gasps and he does it again, more measuredly this time, and Donna lets out a choked-out moan.
He starts slamming into her rhythmically, his thrusts still smooth despite the hint of harshness. She starts groaning in time with his movements, looking down at where they're joined and watching him spread her open, her pussy red and swollen and glistening, and it's all so erotic she can't help but be the one to bite him this time, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. It draws a grunt from him, awakens some animalistic instinct that has him speeding up until their hips are crashing into each other, the dresser shaking and her frame rattling from the impact.
She loves it, loves when he loses control, and once again she wishes she could spend all night with him, fulfilling all of their fantasies, making him come again and again until he forgets his own name, but she doesn't know how to ask for that without complicating things and this is good enough as it is anyway.
He releases one of her wrists to tweak her nipple and knead her breast and her head falls back, surrendered to pleasure. She knows she needs more to come but this feels so good she just wants to enjoy it some more, savor how full she feels and how good the searing heat is and how his tip hits somewhere inside her that's sending sparks up her whole body.
He gives a particularly hard thrust that hits her back wall and she spasms. "Fuck," she sobs, and Harvey's forehead falls against hers, his breathing heavy.
"Make that sound again," he pants huskily, and thrill makes her heart skip a beat.
"Then hit me deep like that again," she tells him, and he groans before complying. As requested, she sobs again, the sound coming out helpless and dirty. He repeats the motion and it aches so good she wants to repay him, so she brings her lips to his ear, licks the shell again and lets out a moan so low, so husky and so salacious she's sure it belongs in a porn movie.
"Fuck, Donna," he grunts and his hips falter, and she snickers at his slip-up. He doesn't let up, though, picking his rhythm back up and bringing his thumb down to her clit to rub it mercilessly.
She cries out, silently hoping there are no guests in the room beside theirs, and from then on they become a mess, Harvey plummeting into her, Donna jerking her hips helplessly, his finger on her clit flicking her so quickly she fees like she's levitating.
"Fuck, yes, don't stop," she chokes out, her eyes squeezing shut, and the pleasure is so relentless and so agonizing she has no clue how she hasn't exploded into a million particles yet.
He keeps at it and it doesn't take her long at all to shatter, letting out a sharp cry and practically convulsing, her walls squeezing him inside of her so tight, Harvey actually has to stop moving in fear of hurting her or himself. The second the flutters loosen up a bit, he resumes his movements, fucking her sloppily while she comes until he's coming too, a moan tumbling from his lips as he spills inside of her.
They keep moving lazily and messily until they're both completely spent and exhausted, sweat making her hair cling to the back of her neck. He rests his forehead against hers and they both close their eyes, trying to catch their breaths as their bodies finally begin to relax. She drops her legs and leans back on her elbows, body turning into jelly and brain fuzzy with endorphins.
He waits till he's ready, then lays a kiss on the side of her neck and pulls out, going into the bathroom to clean up. She follows him, and he hands her a wet towel that she uses to clean between her legs. They get dressed in silence, but it's a pleasant one, companionable. Once she has her dress back on, she turns her back to him, silently asking him to zip her up.
She taker her purse and moves to the bathroom mirror to reapply her makeup. Completely inexplicably, Harvey produces a joint from his jacket's breast pocket, and she widens her eyes at him incredulously.
"You're not seriously going to smoke in here?"
"Just a hit," he shrugs and lights the blunt up. Harvey doesn't smoke often, but she's learned he sometimes enjoys it when he's extremely stressed out or after he has sex, and she wastes a second watching him handle the blunt and take a puff. It shouldn't be as sexy as it is, but seeing the fingers that were just inside of her hold the tiny cigarette is weirdly erotic.
He keeps smoking while she finishes fixing herself up, and when she goes back to the bedroom he extends her the joint. She hesitates for a second - she's never been a fan of it - before walking up to him and taking a drag, her eyes fixed on his, and she swears she can see his pupils expanding again. When she exhales the smoke and hands him back the blunt, he takes it, puts it out and grabs her chin, giving her one last toe-curling kiss she knows will force her to re-reapply her lipstick but she couldn't care less.
They part slightly out of breath, and she does reapply her lipstick before making for the door. He's right behind her, and gives her a small smile before opening it for her. They walk to the elevator together, but part ways there, wary of attracting any attention if they go down together.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he tells her, voice pure honey, and she wishes she could kiss him again.
"See you tomorrow," she tells him back with a smirk, and then disappears inside the elevator. She doesn't see him at the gala anymore, figures he went straight home, but she spends the rest of the night with a pleasant soreness between her legs and the thrilling knowledge that, when people here look at her, they have no clue she just spent the better part of an hour getting thoroughly fucked by Harvey Specter.