This story was previously posted on the suitsxmasfic account as part of Secret Santa 2024.

Prompt 21: Donna and Harvey watch the Netflix show "Bridgerton and they enjoy the smut scenes. They also like that in season 3 of Bridgerton the main couple are a redhead and brown haired guy - just like them…

I don't think anyone was surprised I picked this prompt, but SURPRISE. And for those reading now, or rereading (3) I HOPE YOU'LL ENJOY IT and as always would love to know what you think. X - M


Romancing Mr. Specter

Even before he manages to toss his keys in their designated spot on the cabinet, he hears the pitter-patter of tiny feet against the hardwood floor, running up to him. "There's my princess," he greets her, already squatting as she runs around the corner. He envelopes his little girl in a big embrace. Scooping her up in his arms, he gives the four-year-old a kiss against the top of her head.

"Daddy," she giggles, squirming a little. It's a habit she's keeping up with even though he's back to shaving again now that Harvey's started working again.

"Where are your mom and brother?"

"In the kitchen."

He adjusts her so that she can wrap her arms around his neck better as he carries her through the hallway to the open living room. Harvey spots his wife and their newborn in the kitchen, a smile automatically spreading across his face. He crosses the distance and gives Donna a quick peck, much to Lily's disgust.

He laughs with a sigh, sets the four-year-old back on the ground and gives his wife a look. She just shakes her head as if to say their dauhter didn't get that from her. He smirks and steps closer, bringing his left hand to her jaw, kissing her properly now.

"I missed you. I can't wait for it to be holidays," Harvey mumbles, pulling away and resting his forehead against his wife's. The two of them stand there momentarily until Gordon cries, and Harvey pulls away ever so slightly to look at his five-month-old son. He brings his index finger to the boy's chubby cheeks, gently tapping one. It immediately gets grabbed by a tiny hand. "Hey, buddy." He looks back up at his wife. "Do you need me to take him for a moment?"

"I'm fine," she reassures him with a smile. It's been five months since their rainbow baby came into the world, and it's been hectic every single day since then. Today was especially trying since it was his first day back at the firm. "Why don't you change out of your suit first."

"Okay," he nods, finally allowing himself to feel tired. He gives Donna one last peck before he climbs the stairs to their bedroom and switches into sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie that smells like Donna now.

When he comes back down, his daughter once again greets him. "Daddy," she calls out for him, grabbing his hand. "I want you to read to me."

"Now or before bed?" he asks as he follows the little redhead back into their living room. He watches his wife bottle-feed their son. "Cause I ordered pizza for us, and it should be there in a minute."

Lily seems to contemplate his question. "Until we get pizza and the rest before bed."

He scoops her up and picks the Pinkalicious books they've gotten from Hailey from her hand. He sits down next to Donna, who's trying to hold her laugh. He's halfway through the story when the doorbell rings, and he brings Lily with him to open the door. Giving the kid two twenty dollar bills, he takes the boxes from him and beckons the four-year-old to follow him with a bob of his head.

"I carry it myself," she announces, pulling on the fabric of his pants.

"Careful, it's warm," he warns her, giving her the 6' mini Pizza box. Ever since she decided Pizzas were her favourite food, she wanted one entirely for herself. It's still too big, but it was easier this way.

"Does it have yellow tomatoes?"

He's a hundred per cent sure it's a result of Donna craving them during her pregnancy that their firstborn loves them so much, and he already mentally prepares himself for the amount of Thai Food he will have to order in the coming years.

"Of course, sweetheart," he says, bringing his hand to the back of her head. He gently nudges her to move ahead. "Now, take a seat at the table, will you."

"But you and Mommy always eat Pizza on the couch."

"And what happened the last time I let you do that?" he asks in return, eyes automatically darting to the couch. The stain is barely visible anymore, but he doesn't have the energy to deal with another accident.

"I already said sorry."

"I know, Lil," he answers, but he walks to the table anyway. "But look, your mom already set the table for us." He shoots Donna a thankful smile as she places the glasses down, and then he watches his wife help their four-year-old sit at the table.

Dinner is a little chaotic, but nothing he isn't used to. He tells Donna to relax on the couch and asks Lily to help him clean up. "Now, why don't you go find the page where we left the story," he tells her. "And I'll bring your little brother to bed."

When he gets back down, baby monitor in hand, he finds his two redheads curled up together on the couch. He watches them for a moment, and he sees how Donna runs her hand through the ginger curls of their oldest. She looks up at Harvey then, whispering, "She fell asleep."

He nods and squats down in front of them, carefully lifting their girl from her mother's embrace. He lifts her in his arms and takes her to her room. She fusses a little but goes to sleep relatively quickly. He kisses her forehead, wishes her goodnight and leaves the bed light on when he closes the door behind him. He checks on Gordon one more time before he goes downstairs again.

"Come here," she orders after he sits down beside her, exhaling deeply. She feels him shift, and then he rests his head on her lap. She brings her right hand to his forehead, slowly tracing a line he claims isn't there before Donna slips her fingers through his hair. "How was work?"

"Quiet," he admits.

She laughs. "You're telling me Louis managed to shut up about you being back in the office?"

He laughs now, too, shakes his head lightly and closes his eyes as he focuses on her touch. "No, his welcome back coffee break took nearly an hour."

"And you loved every second of it."

"Yeah," he admits quietly to his wife. Both of them know that they should never tell Louis, but deep down, they know the other lawyer also knows. Especially since Harvey asked his former rival to start a firm when he learned Sheila had gotten her job at Harvard back, and they were now once again living in the same city. Seattle had been good to them, but then the lockdowns had come when Donna was pregnant with Lily, and being unable to see their family had been difficult. This prompted many conversations about possibly moving back to the East Coast, so they chose Boston. "It just wasn't the same without the three of you."

"We missed you too, Harvey," she whispers, running her thumb over his eyebrow as he links her other hand with one of his own- his thumb playing with the ring on her finger. He lays in her embrace for a minute or five before she suggests they watch something on TV.

He gets up to get them something to drink, and Donna picks the remote and turns to Netflix, switching from the kids' profile to their joint one – she automatically searches for the next episode of Survivor when his voice comes from the kitchen.

"We've seen it all."

"What?" she whispers, looking over her shoulder, her husband making his way to her with two cups of coffee. He hands her the one in the Santa-shaped mug Lily threw a tantrum about in Target the other day.

"I said we watched it all," he bobs his head to the screen. "They're still filming the new season."

She takes the cup from his hand, takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh when the familiar vanilla flavour greets her. It's been five months, but it still feels like she's getting used to drinking it again. She switches to their watch list, her eyebrows raising as she spots the little icon - Bridgerton. "Did you?"

He draws the cup away from his mouth, puts it on the side table and settles next to her on the couch. "Yeah, it looks like a period drama rom-com or something. You usually love that, don't you?"

"Yeah," she admits, but seeing it added to their list – one they started to identify which shows or movies they weren't allowed to watch without the other, that's a surprise. "Actually," she shifts then. "Did you know this show is an adaptation of this book series? I read them years ago."

"Do you want to watch it then?" he asks, just making sure cause he knows his wife has a particular mind regarding adaptions - usually not liking them at all.

Donna takes a moment to think it over, her eyes drifting off to the little icon again – the portrait of a young redhead staring back at her. She doesn't remember everything about the books, and she had been apprehensive about watching it when it came out years ago. But Donna'd be lying if she didn't admit that she's at least a little curious, especially since she read somewhere the last season is following the couple from her favourite book of the series.

He doesn't need to wait for her verbal answer. He can see it on her face. Her lips curl up just so, and he leans over to press the play button on the remote in her hand.

She hits pause instantly. "You want to watch with me?"

Harvey turns to look at her again. "You watch Survivor with me."

"I know," she admits. "It's just… There's supposed to be a lot of sex."

He stares at her momentarily, trying his best to hold back his laugh as he gauges where her reaction is coming from. "And you've known me to complain about that?"

She rolls her eyes at her husband and shakes her head. "No," she gives in, poking his arm with her index finger. "But you do happen to have some particular views when it comes to TV and movies."

"Such as?"

"Die Hard is not a Christmas movie."

Harvey opens his mouth to protest, but one look from his wife has him shut up before he even starts. They've had this conversation every year since they got together and many times before that. He also knows they'll end up watching it sometime these two weeks anyway. He raises his hands in defeat, picks up his cup of coffee again and settles into the couch. Motioning for her to press on play with a bob of his head.

"So, no complaining, mister."

"I won't complain."

.

They're ten seconds into the show when he laughs softly to himself.

"What?"

"Their curls remind me of that picture of you in college that you once showed me."

She thinks about the black and white headshot she'd gotten for her portfolio in her second year of college, and then her mind drifts off to the numerous costumes she's donned in her years at school. "Are you picturing me in one of those dresses right now," it's more of a statement than a question because she already knows the answer.

"Maybe," he admits. "But without one of those ridiculous feathers in your hair."

.

"But be forewarned, dear reader. I certainly know you."

"You could be this Whistledown lady. You always know about everyone's business, too."

.

"Why are they dressing that poor girl so badly."

"Hmm?" she draws her eyes from the scene and looks at him for a moment.

"That pale yellow dress does nothing for her, and that gigantic bow tie is not helping either."

"Honey," she places her hand on his wrist. "She's a redhead, we don't do yellow."

He laughs loudly. "A two-and-a-half thousand dollar dress is hanging in our walk-in closet, proving the exact opposite."

"But that's a Greta Constantine," she objects. "Those don't count."

.

He groans inwardly when he sees the poor girl wearing a yellow dress that fits even more poorly than the first one. She's standing at the edge of the ballroom, looking longingly at one of the Bridgerton boys dancing. It's when the next festive scene has the third son search out the third daughter again that it hits him. He's seen enough rom-com movies with Donna to know how this ends. "They're going to end up together, aren't they?"

She realises he isn't asking a question when the next statement follows as quickly as this one did.

"And he's clearly not seeing what's right in front of his face."

Donna chuckles to herself, but it's loud enough to draw his attention anyway.

"What?"

She pulls up her knee and turns to face him. "Do you want a spoiler?"

"I think you just gave me one," he counters. "They end up together."

He hears her hum, but the way she is holding back a laugh makes him want to know what's on her mind. "But?"

"In the books, it takes them twelve years."

Now, that's something he doesn't need further explained, and he shakes his head in return. "You're saying I'm Colin?"

"Well, if the cravat fits," she teases, bringing her hand to his jaw. She drags her fingers over his light stubble. She draws her bottom lip between her teeth. "I think you'd look dashingly handsome in a suit like that."

.

"A duel, really?" The comment slips out before he even knows it, and his hand falls back to his knee. He realises his mistake the second he says it, and he doesn't have to turn his head to know the redhead curled up in his arms is giving him a look.

"That was not a duel," he counters before she can even speak. He wraps his arm around her frame and squeezes her shoulder. "And Stephen Huntly deserved to get his ass kicked and far worse."

She chuckles softly, teasing him regardless. "A duel."

He looks down at her, presses a kiss to the top of her head, then whispers. "I'd have shot him for you."

.

She curls up against his side, letting her head rest in the crook of his neck, her hand trailing randomly over his chest as the montage of Daphne and Simon getting hot and heavy plays in the background. She switches her attention between the screen and her husband, hearing his breathing falter when her fingertips run over his nipples.

"Donna," he mumbles, eyes closing as he feels the desire starting to pool in the pit of his stomach. He does his best to ignore the moans coming from the television. "I thought you wanted to watch this."

He vaguely registers how she shakes her head as she brings her hand up to his jaw and turns his head so that she can kiss him. A soft peck first, she tugs on his lips with her teeth, soothing that over with her tongue. She pulls back ever so slightly, rests her head against his and then whispers. "I burn for you."

He has half a mind to register she's quoting the show they're watching, but his free hand quickly finds the remote. Blindly hitting the pause or exit button, he tosses it to the side and promptly cups her jaw, drawing her mouth against his again. He kisses her slowly, his tongue stroking against hers until the moans filling the room around him are hers.
"Harvey," she coos, feeling her body coming alive by his touch, his kisses. Donna shifts so that she's straddling him now, automatically rolling her hips once when she feels his dick twitching beneath her. It's like coming home.

He hasn't gotten this hard or this fast in a long time. "Fuck, Donna," he groans, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. The friction feels fantastic, and he doesn't want to jinx it with his hopes, but he genuinely thinks tonight might be the night she'll tell him she's ready.

He draws his hands under the hoodie she's wearing once again, slowly caressing her side until he cups both of her large breasts over the tank top she's wearing, kneading the delicate flesh in his grasp. He teases her erect nipples with his thumbs in the same rhythm she builds against his cock.

"Har … vey,"' she gasps, cupping his face again before she kisses him once more. She feels herself getting lost in him until a cry comes through on the monitor. She pauses, pulls back, and watches her husband as he stills her movements above his groin. They silently count to three, but at two, another cry follows.

"Looks like our chaperone is awake," she mumbles then.

He can't help but laugh, throwing his head back against the couch. He slowly pulls his hands out of the hoodie and draws in a breath. It's just by the way he says her name that she knows he's not in the position to get up.

She smiles down at her husband, runs one hand along his face, and gives him a quick peck. "I'll go get him," she tells him. "Could you – "

"I'll warm up the milk."

.

She hears him sniff once and sees how he lifts his free hand to his face in her peripheral vision. She silently hands him a tissue and curls up further against him as the credits for season one start to roll onto the screen. She turns off the TV and caresses his brought chest with her hand. "You want to talk about it?"

He laughs softly and shakes his head. "I'm fine," he reasons because it's not the storyline playing out on the screen that got to him. It's a thought that's plagued his mind for four years now. "It's just – "

Donna shifts slightly, creating a little bit more distance between their bodies. He pulls her legs over his lap instead, softly squeezing her knee as he looks up at her.

"Sometimes I can't help but think that if I'd gotten my shit together, my mom might have been able to meet the kids."

She feels the lump in her throat now, too, and she blinks back a tear, too, as she wipes one of his unshed ones away with her thumb. "I would have had to have gotten mine together too, Harvey," she mumbles, reminding him that it's always a team effort when it comes to them. She notices the look in his eyes and knows he'll protest – just like any other time they venture to this subject, she nods. "I wasn't ready either. And I wouldn't change having you, the kids, everything we've built together, for anything."

"Me neither," he admits, linking her hand with his own. He brings it to his lips and kisses the ring on her finger. "It's just –"

"I know," she reassures him, cuddling back against his frame. "I love you."

"I love you too."

.

He feels her leg starting to bounce against his. Bringing his hand to her thigh, he steadies her once, but one look at her face shows him she's not so patiently waiting for what's happening on screen. He looks back at Anthony, who seems to be having a panic attack, his hand pressed against Kate's chest as she tries to reassure him she's okay.

He knows she's read the books by now, and she hasn't said much spoiler-wise on his behalf apart from when he asked about the redheaded girl, but the 'huh' that leaves her lips next is enough to make him ask. "What's happening?"

"They're not following the book."

He stares at the screen. "Let me guess, they should have been caught like the last couple?"

His wife hums, and he takes that as his queue just to shut up and watch the rest of the episode with her, but he can't help but comment when he sees Anthony drop down on one knee to propose to the wrong woman.

"The sister!" he nearly exclaims. "He's proposing to the sister. Do none of these men see what's right in front of them?"

Donna chuckles softly at his outburst. She knows it's a common theme used amongst the books for all siblings, but the way the show handles this is another level.

.

"Follow me."

He watches Colin Bridgerton take Miss Featherington's hand and guide her to a drawing room, closing the door behind them, leaving them alone and unchaperoned.

"Wait," he mutters, sitting up straight. "Are they happening now? I thought you said it took them twelve years."

Donna doesn't have to comment because the scene plays out quickly enough, with Lord Feathertington and Portia marching into the room.

"Also, how does Portia not realise she just walked in on her daughter and a Bridgerton unchaperoned in a closed room? She could have forced them to marry."

.

"I could die tomorrow, and it would kill me."

"But you'd already be dead."

"He did not just say that."

She hits pause and drags her gaze away from the screen to her husband. "May I remind you, you said that the water was good on our first date," she counters using air quotes.

"First of all, I believe you countered with water is wet," he reaches over to steal the remote from her hand. "And second, that was not our first date."

"Wasn't it?," she teases, leaning in and reaching over to try and steal the remote back again.

He rolls her over and tosses the damn thing out of reach. "No," he counters, leaning in to kiss her.

.

Now that the holidays have come around and the days ahead will packed with their families coming over, meaning their time alone after the kids have gone to sleep will not be just them anymore, they've finally given in to Louis' request for Lily and Lucy to have a sleepover. When Harvey comes home from dropping Lily off at Louis, he notices most lights are already off. He tosses his keys in the bowl, kicks off his shoes, and looks up across the stairs, seeing the light shining from under their bedroom door.

He climbs the stairs two steps at a time, turns to the right, and checks on their youngest. As he hears the steady rhythm of soft breaths, he smiles and makes his way to the other side of the hallway, slowly pushing the door to their bedroom open.

"Hi."

His mouth slowly parts as he takes in his wife. She's wearing a silk robe, the band between her fingers as she swirls it around, her hair is curled and pinned to the side of her head – and maybe most notably, the mirror from their dressing room is now standing in the middle of the room.

It takes him a second to grasp what's happening, what she's recreating. "Wait, Donna – "

She presses one index finger against his lips. "That's lady Paulsen to you, mister Specter," she counters, letting the robe slide off her shoulders to reveal the corset she's wearing underneath it.

His first instinct is to wonder if she feels comfortable in it, but she shines so proudly that he already knows the answer. He swallows thickly then, taking in the sight in front of him. Her breasts are pushed up and almost spilling out of the corset top she's wearing.

He takes the last step to close the distance between them. He brings his right hand to Donna's jaw, cupping her face as he leans in to kiss her. He pulls back ever so slightly, catching his breath and stealing one more glance down her frame. "You know, this looks gorgeous on you," he rasps, "but it would look even better on the floor."

She chuckles and lightly shakes her head. "Smooth," she mouths then.

"I try," he smirks in return.

She pushes herself up on her toes, gives him a quick peck, and then wipes her lipstick from his mouth. "You never have to," she says then, their dialogue a ritual on its own, and they both know the underlying meaning behind them. He's hers, and she's his; she doesn't need any lines from him to get her going.

She undoes the zipper of his dark blue crew neck and trails her hands down his frame to the edge of his sweater. She tugs on the fabric and helps him pull it over his head. Her hands are back on her husband's chest as soon as the garment is gone. Her fingers slowly tap over his heart.

He stops her when she starts to undo the first button of his dress shirt. Instead, he spins her around and makes her face the mirror in the middle of their bedroom as he takes in the rest of her outfit. His finger absentmindedly traces the ribbon holding the corset up until he tugs on the bow at the top.

It comes undone, but he removes the pin holding her hair together before he pulls on the ribbon to loosen it completely. Her curls come loose, cascading down her frame as he picks her ginger locks up and moves them over her right shoulder. He leans in and kisses the spot behind her left ear., then down her neck to the top of her shoulder.

Harvey looks down over her shoulder at the décolletage he's dreamt about for ears. He gently bites down on her skin, soothing it with a soft kiss. He slowly pulls on the ribbon and then unties it, ordering her to watch them in the mirror.

Donna does as she's told, drawing a deep breath as she takes them in. The way he's standing behind her, barely touching her, yet completely grounding her. The focus on the task at hand is fascinating to watch. She's always loved watching him work. But watching him work her is something else. She feels the fabric become loose, her breasts automatically moving at the lack of support. She catches his gaze through the mirror, and then, his loving smirk and the desire clear in his eyes.

He watches his wife's body in the reflection of the mirror as he pulls the last bit of the ribbon out of its closure. The corset sags down, exposing her breasts. They're full, even bigger, and hanging a little more now than before, but they are perfect all the same. He pulls the corset aside, tossing it to the ground. Harvey takes her in then, his wife, half naked in just a pair of lace panties.

"Gorgeous," he whispers, his hand settling on her hip as he draws her closer to his frame so she's leaning against his chest. He brings his hands up to cup her breasts, gently squeezing them, and he rolls her right nipple between his fingers, causing her to moan loudly.

She tosses her head back against his shoulder when he does it again, and he leans in then, kissing her languidly as he massages her breasts. He feels his dick twitch in his pants when her ass comes into contact with his groin, and he only realises then how hard he already is. He groans, too, grinds his dick against her – a move she reciprocates by wiggling her butt against him.

"Donna," he rasps, slowly trying to walk them over to their bed, but she stops him. Her hands coming to cover his over her breasts, she breaks their kiss at last and looks at him again in the mirror.

She knows the scene they watched last night didn't go there, but her mind has been on one line from the book ever since. "In the books, he says he wants to do it in front of a mirror."

He's unsure why this surprises him, but it does all the same. Then he smirks. Harvey leans back in and gently nibbles on her ear. "Your wish is my command," he mumbles, lips tugging on her earlobe as he makes sure her gaze is back on them in the mirror again.

He lifts her boobs, pressing them against her frame as the corset had done before, and he leans down over her shoulder as best as possible, just about managing to kiss the top of her breast. He drags his tongue over her delicate skin, back to her neck, as he massages her tits - kneading and cupping them, asking her to tell him if it feels good or if they hurt.

She shakes her head, and his name rolls off her tongue at his ministrations.

He spreads his fingers a little, watches the dark pink of her areolas starting to peak through and then her erect nipples slip between his fingers. He squeezes them both between his index and middle fingers. Keeping one hand occupied on her chest, he moves his other down her frame, caressing her side, her stomach, and gently smoothing his fingers over the lace fabric until he slips his hand into her panties. "Fuck, Donna," he says when he finds her soaking already.

Usually, he'd tease her a little first, but he doesn't waste any time this time. Using his knee to spread her legs a little, he tugs on the fabric, pulling it down her hips and to her knees so she can kick them off herself.

He looks at his wife's pussy, and licks his lips. His fingers tingle to dive back in her. He takes a moment to caress her smooth skin. He's seen and felt her in all possible conditions, but finding her bare to the touch always makes him take his time. He rubs two fingers over her slit, up and down, one, twice, spreading her desire with his fingers until he lets them rub against her clit at last.

The arm wrapped around her chest keeps her upright against his frame as she bucks in his arms, and he sees her eyes close in pleasure. "Watch," he tells her then, kissing her jaw, and he nudges her to look ahead with his own head.

He rubs her clit once more and then inserts a finger into her heat. His gaze switches from the way her mouth parts and forms that familiar O shape to her heat as he pulls his finger out, seeing it wholly coated in her pleasure. He inserts a second digit then, feeling her breath hitch as he starts to pump his fingers into her, curling them just so in the way that he knows gets her going.

He kisses her neck and tells her how beautiful she is, and he feels himself starting to leak a little as she rolls her hips against his erection with every stroke of his hand. "Good girl."

"Harvey, please," she begs between moans, "I'm so… close."'

He watches the love of his life in his arms and adds his thumb to the mix. Rubbing her clit as he thrust his fingers into her, his dick grinding against her ass and his other hand rolling her nipples. It takes only three more strokes and him telling her to let go for her to come undone.

"Ooh, ooh."

Then her breath hitches, her voice falls away on a loud moan, and she quivers in his arms. He kisses her neck, her shoulder, everywhere he can when holding her like this, gently coaching her through her high as he strokes her until her breathing returns to normal. "You okay there, honey?"

She finally opens her eyes, smiling brightly as she nods at him through the mirror. Bringing one arm up around his head, she turns ever so slightly to kiss her husband - thanking him for this mind-blowing orgasm and giving him a preview of what's yet to come.

When she finally manages to turn around in his embrace, she brings both hands to his face. Cupping his jaw in her hands, she leans onto her toes and presses one lingering kiss against his lips.

She starts to undo his shirt's buttons and then slowly walks them both in the direction of their bed. She works the white fabric over his shoulders and down his frame. She lets her fingernails travel back up over his toned arms, shoulders, and chest. Her hands come to rest on his belt buckle.

He draws in a breath, looks down and watches the way she bites her lip as her right-hand cups his dick over his pants. "Donna," he groans, his eyes closing in pleasure as she strokes his length twice. It's almost enough for him to cave and let her have her way with him, but he needs to taste her first.

Closing his hand around her wrist, he stills her ministrations. He shakes his head when she gives him a questioning look, and then he turns them around. With his hands on her hips, he slowly walks her back until her calves hit the edge of the bed. He motions for her to sit down with a bob of his head.

Donna does, bringing her hands up to his elbows, ready to pull his body down to hers. He kneels on the ground in front of her instead, his hands resting on her knees. He spreads her legs, and she stares at him in awe – she didn't think he'd have the patience to wait any longer with how hard he felt against her. She leans forwards and kisses him again, mumbling an "I. Love. You" in between kisses.

"I love you more," he answers, kissing the tip of her nose, down her cheeks and her neck and then finally her breasts. He spends his sweet time on them, from gently pecking all around the heavy flesh to dragging his teeth over her nipple, sucking it into his mouth right after.

She mewls at that, and he smirks against her chest –how he loves to get his wife off.

He kisses her sternum, kisses his way down to her stomach, to the scar running across it. He caresses her curves, kisses the stretch marks on her hips, and then carefully lifts one of her legs over his shoulder.

He doesn't have to tell her this time. Her gaze is already firmly locked in on the sight in front of her. Watching her husband kneel between her legs, the way his muscles flex in his back with every stroke of his tongue or hand.

She gasps loudly when he circles her sensitive bud, her left hand grasping onto the sheets, and even though she only sees the back of his head, she knows he's smiling – the smug bastard.

Bringing her right hand to his head, she drags her fingers through his hair to the back of his neck.

She both wants to lift his head and keep it buried between her legs forever. The pleasure he's giving her is always good, but it's been more intense lately—more of everything.

"Oh," she gasps, her hips bucking up at a particular quick stroke, and as much as she wants to watch this, she lets herself settle down on the bed. Her fingers slip from Harvey's hair as her own spreads over the duvet.

He kisses her, drawls out his tongue and laps up her desire as her hips start to move along with his every move. He knows she's close, and while he'd love nothing more than to have her come against his mouth. He also knows how their love-making has changed since they had kids.

She can still come multiple times, but it's not as easy as it was before, and it tires her out more now. And if there's one thing he wants tonight, it is to sink into her and feel her walls spasm around him as she comes undone again.

He draws back, smiles softly at her protest, but winks all the same as he pushes himself back onto his feet. His jeans feel uncomfortably tight now, and he makes a show of taking them off. His erection springs free the moment he pushes down his boxers. He doesn't use his hands to stroke himself, afraid it might be over before he even gets to be inside of her.

He watches her bite her lip and he smirks in return. He wordlessly tells her to move up the bed, and he crawls on top of her after that, making sure not to smother her under his weight. "You okay?" he asks, kissing her again.

"Yeah," she reassures him. "I just want you inside me."

"Good." He kisses her again, adjusting his position ever so slightly so that his length is pressing at her centre and, when he trusts forward, filling her completely. It feels like coming home.

.

He licks the whipped cream from his thumb, takes the other half of the éclair from her hand and eats it as his wife watches him in amusement. "These are good," he mumbles between bites, "why have we never gotten them before?"

She wipes a bit of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth, then leans in to kiss him quickly. "Probably because you can't behave yourself whenever whipped cream is involved."

"Hey," he protests, nudging her arm with his shoulder. "I'm doing fine now."

She catches the way he signals his dick with a bob of his head, and her gaze travels down his torso to the sheet just about covering his private part. She sees it twitch at that exact moment. "You were saying?"

"You're touching me," he counters, finishing the pastry. He licks his fingers clean and brings his hand to her jaw, slowly pulling Donna closer so that he can kiss her again. "And you flashed me your boobs just now."

She smirks into their kiss. It's slow, languid. One peck after the other, they've gotten good at this, too. Just making out, kissing one another without necessarily leading to anything – but it's not what she wants right now.

Tugging on his hair, she softly bites on his lip as she lets her hand trail down his chest, drawing abstract patterns over his pecks, down to his stomach until her fingertips barely graze his dick, making him moan into her ear.

"Any other scenes you're looking to act out?" he asks, closing his eyes when her hand falls around his length, stroking him once, twice.

She chuckles at first but bites down on her lip. The first one coming to mind is the one they watched yesterday evening. "The carriage scene would be hot, but it's too cold to get out and get in the car."

"We have the minivan in the garage. It has more room," he reasons in return.

"Yeah, but then we'd have to take the seats out first, and you know those things are a crime to install."

He smiles and kisses the top of her head as she teases his balls before she leans back against his chest. "Ooh, there's the settee one," she muses now. "You know in the books, Colin almost takes Penelope on it in her mother's drawing room."

"We're not having sex in your parent's living room."

"Ooh god no," she agrees, even though not even a year ago, when pregnant with their son, she almost convinced him to do it in her childhood bedroom. She snickers at the memory, and Harvey moves, pushing the sheet aside as he gets out of bed.

She watches her husband walk through their bedroom naked, letting herself get distracted by his assets for a hot second as he slips on his boxer briefs. She calls after him when he unlocks their bedroom door. "What are you doing?" she shout-whispers, quickly picking up her silk robe. She wraps it around her shoulders and walks after him, her brows knitting together when she notices him trying to push the lounger he used to have in his office. "You're going to wake Gordon."

"Then give me a hand."

She does as told, lifting the black leather piece of furniture by its end. Harvey grabs the heaviest part and guides her back to their bedroom. It ends up in the middle, in front of their bed, and right next to the mirror, which started this all.

She looks at him curiously when he checks the hallway once more. "He's still asleep," he assures her, turning the lock. He smiles at his wife and walks back to her. Her hair has lost some of the curls she put in by now, the messy bunch cascading down her shoulders, but she's just as beautiful as ever in his eyes.

He brings his right hand to her face, cupping her jaw, and slowly kisses her. Telling her he loves her with every stroke of his tongue. He gives her one more peck, places light kisses over her cheeks to her ear, nibbles on her earlobe and twirls a strand of her hair around his finger.

Donna brings her hands to his back, slowly stroking the strong muscles, soothing the flesh her nails have left their marks earlier that night. "Harvey," she purrs when his mouth moves down her neck, tongue slipping along her collarbone, and she throws her head back as she revels in the sensation. Letting her hands move down his back, pushing him closer to her frame, Donna feels him hard and wanting against her. She cups his ass over his boxers, and when he groans against her skin, she does it again before pulling the fabric down his hips.

He uses one free hand to help her out, stepping out of them without detangling himself from her. He moves his kisses to the other side of her neck, his hands on her waist slowly guiding her to the edge of the lounger. He slips one under the fabric, softly caressing her stomach, the underside of her breast, and then he cups her butt too.

"Harvey," she coos again when she feels his fingers slip between her legs, softly stroking them between her lips. He grinds his hips against hers at the same time.

She pushes the silk robe off of her shoulders then, needing the thin piece of fabric shielding her from feeling her husband's hot frame all over her gone.

Harvey draws his hand back and watches as she reveals herself again. He's seen her naked more times than he can count now, but it always remains a sight to behold.

She bites down on the edge of her lip. The way he looks at her now – in a way still the same as that very first time, but the love shining in his eyes is overpowering pure desire every single time, and damn it, if that doesn't get her going.

Donna licks her lips, gives her husband one quick kiss and then steps back to sit on the lounger. The leather is cold against her skin and creaks a little as she pushes further back. She watches her husband watch her, and she's not ashamed of downright ogling the man she gets to call hers for the rest of her life.

She lets her gaze trail down from his eyes to his lips, his jaw down to his chest, and then the pièce de résistance – his glorious dick. She absentmindedly licks her lips as she watches him take himself in hand, stroking it a few times as if he wasn't already rock hard again.

"Like what you see?"

She smirks and nods. "Love what I see," she corrects her husband – another well-rehearsed play between them. Shifting a little further down the lounger, she slowly parts her legs, letting one dangle down each side. She draws her right hand down over her stomach until her fingers slip between her legs. She rubs her clit once.

They've done this many times over the years, watching one another as they get off. Especially the first few months after she'd just given birth, as it took her a while to get in the mood again. But she wants him now, all of him. Again.

She lifts her hand and beckons him to come hither with her finger.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He keeps stroking his dick, squeezing the head as he steps over the lounger with one leg, slowly lowering himself so that he's sitting down now too. He lines himself up with her, slowly sliding the tip into her slick core, coaxing a gasp out of her.

Harvey brings his hands to her hips, gently lifts her right leg and hooks it over his leg. She repeats the motion with her other without his help as he pulls her closer, sliding his length fully into her.

"Oooh."

"You okay, babe?"

"Yes," she smiles, nodding, bringing her hands to his face. She meets him in a kiss once. "I just need you."

He wraps his right arm around her frame, kissing her slowly one more time before he lowers her back down. Supporting her back with his arm, he supports himself with his other hand on the lounger, and he rolls his hips then, slowly pulling out and sliding back into her heat as her breathing starts to pick up.

Donna closes her eyes and draws her arms up over her head. Her hands are flat against the leather as she pushes her chest up, and she feels his body respond. He's hitting her deeper as he lowers down to kiss her breasts. His tongue darting out to circle her hard nipples, he kisses them each, softly tugging on her skin with his teeth.

"Tell me if they start to hurt," he groans, dragging his tongue over the peak again.

She shakes her, fingers curling into the bench beneath her. "Do it again," she begs.

He always gives in to his wife's commands, this time no different. Thrusting hard three times, he leans back in again and takes her left nipple into his mouth. Slowly sucking on it until he hears her call out his name. "Harvey, I'm so close, please."

He smirks, tugs on the delicate flesh one last time, and lets it go with a pop. He adjusts his position, Donna's arms moving to the side as he picks up the pace. Thrusting into her again and again, he brings his left hand to her clit and draws a slow circle over it with his thumb.

"Ooh, fuck – "

Her breath starts to hitch, and he grins, but he also knows his wife's body and how she needs a little more these days to get her to come. He keeps the rhythm steady, both his thrust and the way he rubs her bundle of nerves. Feeling her walls start to spasm around him, he releases the hand he had behind her back and cups her breast instead, letting his index finger run over her nipple, and that's when she comes undone.

"Fuck. Harvey. Ooh, oh."

"I'm right there with you, baby," he grunts, thrusting two more times until he finishes too. He groans loudly, his body giving out at last, and he slowly lowers himself down to lay down on her. His wife's arms circle around his back; her fingers run through his hair, and she kisses his sweaty forehead.

"That was –"

"Fucking amazing," she breathes, and she feels him nod against her chest.

"Got any other shows you want to watch?"