Donna loved sex. She's never hidden it. She had once thought she would have only one partner in her life. She'd met Peter when they were still in high school, and it had been love at first sight. He'd been her first, and she had naively believed he would also be her last. But life had a funny way of shaking things up. She had lost Peter, and of course, she hadn't wanted sex for months, even years. She had only wanted him, to the point that the first time she went out with a man, more than a year after his death, she felt like she was betraying him and couldn't go through with it. She had tried to move faster than her grief, and it had come back to hit her like a boomerang.

So she'd given up on men and learned to please herself. And it was fine for a while. It wasn't the same as being with a man, but it was fine. She had learned to know her body in a different way, and it felt really good. But it didn't replace a man.

After more than three years and a long therapy, when she was finally able to take off her wedding ring and no longer feel guilty about being with someone else, she made up for lost time.

There had been a few one-night stands, and she had discovered the pleasure of no-strings-attached sex. And it was good. It was great. The only problem was the lack of trust she had in her partners. Donna was a public figure, and it was complicated to be fully herself, never knowing if something might end up in the tabloids. She chose her partners carefully, but one could never be too cautious. So she held back, she wasn't entirely herself, and even though the sex was good, it was never extraordinary.

Until Harvey.

Harvey, whom she trusted blindly. Harvey to whom she literally confided her life every day. And apparently she'd also been entrusting him with her orgasms for the past few weeks. And boy, did he take care of them. She finally had the best of both worlds: sex with no strings attached and the freedom to do what she wanted without the risk of the tabloids calling her names.

That's how, after their night out on the town, she'd found herself naked on his bed and him between her legs.

"Harvey..." she moaned, grabbing his hair.

His tongue moved up from her entrance to her clit, which he licked gently, sending Donna to the edge of orgasm.

"Fuck... Just like that..."

Harvey continued the circular motion, and Donna felt the heat in her belly growing increasingly present. She was so focused on her pleasure that she paid no attention to Harvey's hand moving up to her mouth until two fingers forced the entrance to her lips, instructing her to suck on them. Which she did without asking, exciting her even more if possible. It was the last bulwark that broke to welcome her orgasm. She gripped Harvey's hair a little tighter, moaning into his fingers, throwing her head back as the orgasm wracked her entire body.

Harvey remained between her legs for a moment, waiting for the pleasure to subside and for Donna to come to her senses. The young woman finally freed her hand from between her hair and caught her breath. The marine stood up, slipping his fingers out of Donna's mouth which earned her a plaintive moan.

"Don't worry baby your mouth will soon be full again."

He grabbed her hand to raise her up and when he undid his belt, she immediately understood what was coming next. She slid to her knees against the wall, waiting patiently for Harvey to unbutton his pants. She didn't know why, but being naked while he was still fully clothed excited her more than anything else. And apparently so did Harvey, as he didn't seem to want to strip.

When his already hard cock popped out of his boxers, Donna didn't hesitate to take it in her mouth. For if there was one thing she loved more than receiving pleasure, it was giving it.

She ran her tongue over the glans, then took it in her mouth as far as she could. She began to move back and forth slowly and looked up, loving to see Harvey's facial expressions as she sucked him.

He let out a gasp and threw his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck Donna..."

She applied herself to the task, making it a point to give him enough pleasure for him to lower the barriers completely and become... animal.

The comings and goings became even slower, to make the pleasure last for both of them. Harvey lowered his head to look at her and ran a hand through her hair as he rested the other on the wall for support.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? You're so pretty when your mouth's full, baby."

Right there. Harvey was starting to do exactly what Donna loved. Talking. He was good with words, so good.

"Okay baby show me your talents. I know you can take all of me."

He slowly pushed his cock deeper, giving Donna's throat time to adjust to the intrusion. She managed to keep him fully in her mouth for a few seconds before the gag reflex took over and she started coughing.

Harvey stepped back but seemed overwhelmed by what the redhead had just done.

"You're taking it so well. Can you still do it?"

Donna nodded, not trusting her voice. Harvey repositioned himself and repeated the gesture. This time she stayed longer, but the full throat had the effect of spilling a few tears, also causing her mascara to run, but she didn't care. Tonight was exactly what she wanted. When she started coughing again, Harvey groaned at the sensation of her throat tightening around his cock then withdrew.

Donna tried to repeat the gesture again but Harvey pulled his cock away.

"Tss take your time. We've got all night ahead of us."

The young woman pouted sulkily but waited as long as she could, which was very little time. She approached Harvey's leg and began rubbing her clit as she looked into his eyes, her gaze still wet.

"Look at you. So desperate that you're rubbing against my leg. You really are a kitten after all."

He distractedly stroked her jaw and moved up to her hair.

"What do you need?"

She moved closer to his cock and Harvey laughed softly. "Tempting, but I want you to use your words."

"I need...to have my mouth full of you."

He tugged at her hair and stooped toward her. "I think you forgot something."

"Please."

"Good girl." He positioned her head against the wall and entered her mouth unceremoniously.

His hips moved back and forth faster and faster in her mouth unceremoniously. Donna, wedged between Harvey and the wall, moaned with pleasure at the movements and began to touch herself. When she ran her fingers over her clit, she felt it swell, so excited was she by the situation.

"That's it baby, touch yourself. I want to see you come while you're sucking me."

She didn't hold back and squeezed her clit harder knowing this would make her come much faster. Her hand became almost uncontrollable, her moans through Harvey's cock grew louder and louder, and when orgasm reached her, she couldn't stop her eyes from rolling back as Harvey didn't slow the pace.

Once her wits had returned, she realized that he had stopped moving but had kept his cock warm in Donna's mouth.

"Back among the living baby?"

She nodded as best she could and Harvey released her mouth.

He helped her to her feet, her legs still trembling, and guided her to the bed.

"Oh look at you, struggling to walk and I haven't even fucked you yet."

Donna moaned knowing what awaited her but still deep in post-orgasm haze to be able to speak.

Harvey took the time to remove his pants, his movements slow, giving Donna a moment to regain her composure. She couldn't help but anticipate what was to come. They'd both taken their precautions, had each other tested, and she burned with anticipation at the thought of feeling him fully, with no barriers, no plastic between them. Just them. Just Harvey. And still that fucking t-shirt.

As he was about to lie down next to her, the redhead grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, but he reflexively pushed her away. She tried again to grab the fabric. And again.

After the failure of her third attempt, Donna stood up, forcing him to do the same. "Harvey."

"Donna."

"Take off your shirt," she ordered softly but unequivocally.

He stiffened, his jaw clenching under the tension, but he cast a falsely detached look at her. "I think I've proven that I don't need my shirt off to fuck you."

He smiled, proud of his remark, but she didn't buy it. She stepped closer, erasing the space between them, and repeated, more firmly, "Harvey."

He froze, realizing she wouldn't back down this time, a flicker of reluctance flashing in his eyes. His hands were already instinctively moving to hold the fabric in place, as if it could protect him. "Donna…"

She raised a hand and placed two fingers on his lips, silencing his protests before he could go any further. "I trust you with my life. Please, trust me back."

She saw the hesitation flash through him, like he was weighing his options, searching for reasons not to comply with her request. But as their eyes locked, Donna knew. She saw it in the way his shoulders relaxed, in the resolution that appeared on his face. With an almost solemn slowness, Harvey grabbed the hem of his t-shirt. He took a deep breath and then pulled it off in one swift motion while she lay down again.

And when she finally set eyes on him, Donna held her breath.

He was gorgeous. Exactly as she had imagined in her most intimate moments. His sculpted chest, his defined abs, and that golden skin. But as she continued to take him in, she heard his voice break the silence.

"Not that perfect, huh?" Harvey murmured, a flicker of vulnerability lacing his tone, almost imperceptible but enough to catch her attention.

She blinked, momentarily confused by his comment, not immediately understanding what he meant. It wasn't until she looked closer that she saw what he saw. Scars. Scattered across his body. Some small, others larger. Some faded with time, others more recent, as if they hadn't fully healed yet. They told stories he had never shared, battles he had fought in silence.

But Donna didn't see that. What she had noticed first was the strength, the beauty of his body, and she knew that those marks, far from diminishing that beauty, were an integral part of it. She locked eyes with Harvey, determined to show him.

"Are you kidding me?" she said, her voice filled with wonder. "Your muscles are carved out of fucking stone, Gunny."

.

.

Before he could respond, she shifted slightly, swinging her legs over him to push Harvey onto the mattress and settled herself on top of him.

"Donna, what are you—"

But he never finished his sentence. Donna leaned forward, her lips brushing against his. "They're a part of you. And I want all of you."

He didn't respond, Donna's declaration disarmed him completely.

She lowered her head and placed a light kiss on the scar just below his collarbone, her warm breath grazing his skin. Harvey instinctively tensed under her touch, almost as if he couldn't believe she would actually do that.

He felt every one of Donna's actions like a powerful wave, overwhelming his defenses. When she placed her lips on the scar, a shiver ran down his spine. It wasn't just the contact, it was what it symbolized. She didn't pull away, she didn't ask questions, she embraced what he had spent years hiding. What he had bandaged alone, licking his injuries like a wounded animal. Because that's what he had been, what he still was. Until Donna. And it was both terrifying and profoundly soothing.

He stiffened reflexively, his instinct to always maintain control briefly taking over. But that control was crumbling quickly as Donna's lips moved down toward his side, brushing against another scar. His fingers tightened on her hips, as though holding onto something real while his inner walls collapsed, one by one.

"Donna…" His voice was hoarse, weaker than he would have liked. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he didn't need this, that he wasn't that kind of man. That they didn't have that kind of relationship. But the words got stuck in his throat.

"Shh." Donna's whisper cut through his thoughts.

Her gentleness and confidence were disarming. She didn't even need to tell him that she was there for him, that she wasn't judging anything she saw. Her gaze and her actions said it all.

When her hands moved up to the center of his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his dog tags, Harvey felt his breath catch in his throat once again. Those tags represented everything he'd seen, everything he'd lost, and everything he'd chosen to carry on his shoulders. And yet, Donna touched them with a reverence that shook him. As if she understood without him having to say a word.

When their eyes met, he felt overwhelmed. She looked at him like she could see all of him, like she could read him like an open book. And what struck him the most was that he saw no pity in her eyes. Just acceptance. Comfort. Tenderness. Almost lo- no. This had nothing to do with love. There was no love between them, and there never would be.

Donna didn't love.

But it was still terribly soothing, so he let her continue, unable to move, speak, or even breathe properly. He had spent his life building walls, ensuring that no one saw beyond what he wanted to show. But Donna had arrived like a bulldozer in his life and destroyed all that.

Harvey felt a warmth rise within him, a mix of emotions so intense he could no longer contain them. Donna's gentleness, the way she touched each scar, it was too much. Far too much. He had never let anyone get this close, never allowed anyone to come this near. And this closeness terrified him.

With a suddenness he couldn't suppress, Harvey grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, their bodies colliding in a primal need. And then, he kissed her. Not a soft or measured kiss, but a fierce, hungry one. A kiss that carried everything: fear, frustration, desire, gratitude, and that damn vulnerability he had never wanted to feel.

And Donna, instead of pulling away, responded with the same intensity, her hands sliding into his hair, drawing him even closer. It wasn't an exchange meant to comfort. It was a fire consuming them both.

"Enough feelings for tonight, we're in this bed for a reason."

"Then show me."

Harvey regained control of the situation, tipped Donna onto her stomach and positioned a pillow under her belly to raise her hips slightly. He knelt behind her and as he dotted her spine with kisses, he pushed two fingers into her pussy.

He began by kissing the small of her back, then slowly worked his way up as his fingers concentrated on preparing her. Donna's moans were in perfect harmony with his hand, he could feel his kisses down her back making her shiver as he finally reached her neck. He pushed back her hair and began to suck on the inside of her neck, leaving a mark.

"Harvey..."

He didn't answer but his free hand slid between her and the mattress to grab one of her boobs, playing with her nipple.

"Fuck Harvey... I need more..." the redhead moaned, moving her hips in a desperate attempt to get his fingers to enter deeper inside her.

He pulled his hand out of her vagina and presented the tip of his cock in front of her entrance but without penetrating her, driving Donna completely mad.

"Harvey..." she protested.

He raised his head and suddenly had an idea when he saw the full-length mirror at the back of the room. He brought his hand up to her neck and grabbed her throat, forcing her to raise her head.

"Look at you," he whispered in her ear. "See this face, baby?"

He paused, giving her time to look at herself.

"This is your face when you're begging for my cock." And if he didn't know any better, he could have sworn he saw Donna blush as she caught sight of her reflection. Knowing she was desperate was one thing, witnessing it was something else. She almost seemed shy looking at herself.

And yet, to him, she was breathtaking. Her messy hair. The thin sheen of sweat on her pale skin. Her hazel eyes filled with desire. Her lips still swollen from his cock thrusting into her mouth. The sheets clenched between her fingers, as though trying to hold onto something. Anything.

But what drove him wild was the way her hips moved instinctively. Those unconscious movements that sought him, craved him, wanted to make him hers just as much as she was already his.

Because she was. Maybe just for this night, though every fiber of his being screamed that he wanted her for every night. Every day. In every possible way.

But for now, he settled for this moment, even if it broke his heart a little not to be able to make it last forever. Because what mattered right now was Donna. Beautiful, desperate, and completely his.

He finally gave in to her silent plea and slid into her slowly, savoring every inch of himself as he entered her body.

They both let out a moan of satisfaction as their bodies became one, fully connected with no barriers between them. And it felt like an entirely new experience. Almost as if it were their first time all over again.

Harvey, still leaning close to her ear, began to move slowly.

"Fuck..."

He looked at her through the mirror, noting the difference in her face. She seemed relieved to finally have him inside her.

"That's what you wanted wasn't it? To be filled with my cock?"

Donna moaned in response to his question, burying her face in the mattress, but Harvey wouldn't hear of it. He grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes, d-Harvey," the word almost rippled from her mouth but she caught herself at the last moment and he didn't rise. Daddy issues had a life of their own, but this wasn't the time to point them out but it didn't mean he can't play with that a little bit.

"That's my girl," he breathed, kissing her forehead.

The gesture and the praise made her moan even louder and Harvey reached up, grabbed her hips and began to fuck her.

"Fuck... I can finally feel how wet you are for me baby..."

They should have done this sooner. As soon as they'd realized it would be a regular thing. Feeling her completely was inexplicably exciting. He gripped her hips more firmly, accelerating his thrusts, and when his balls began to slap against her clitoris, Donna began to scream.

And while he liked more or less every position, doggy-style gave an incredible perspective. Donna couldn't really move while he was fucking her, and his movements were so strong that she sometimes looked like a disjointed doll.

His doll.

.

.
Thank God they were in Harvey's room. Best decision ever. In her room, she wouldn't have been able to express herself as much. But this studio felt like a blessing.

She raised her head, again finding her reflection in the mirror but not lingering on it. Her eyes landed on Harvey, and just when she thought she couldn't have been more excited, the sight in front of her turned her brain to mush.

He was behind her in all his glory, biting his lip as he thrust harder and harder, his eyes on her. The only thing her mind could think about was how wide his body was and how thin hers was. He could have broken her completely if he'd wanted to, and the fact that the thought turned her on so much should be studied. She wanted him. She needed him. Of their bodies together. Of his cock slapping into the depths of her pussy. Of her trembling legs struggling to carry her tomorrow morning.

Feminism could fuck off, tonight she had the sex of her life.

She felt Harvey's hands tighten against her hips, knowing this would leave marks for days to come. He was close, she could feel it. She slid her hand over her clit and when she felt him tense inside her and his cum fill her completely, she came for the third time that evening.

He stayed inside her for a while, wanting to make the pleasure last longer, certainly enjoying having his cock warm in her den and she wasn't complaining. She was still breathless when she felt Harvey lie on top of her with his chest against her back. And once again she couldn't help noticing how her body was engulfed beneath his. How perfectly they fit together.

After lounging for several minutes, Donna pushed Harvey away and stumbled toward the bathroom before they both drifted off to sleep.

When she came out, she found Harvey lying on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow and the sheet pulled up to his waist. The soft glow of the bedside lamp highlighted a few strands of his messy hair. And even though she couldn't see his face, his whole body looked peaceful, as if, for the first time in a long while, the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders.
That was when she noticed the tattoo on his skin. On his upper back, over his shoulder blades, two words stood out under the dim light: Semper Fidelis. She immediately recognized the motto of the Marines. The tattoo looked like it had been written with an elegant quill, like carefully crafted handwriting. The black letters stretched fluidly, forming delicate and refined curves. The ink appeared slightly faded by time, softening the edges of the tattoo without diminishing its clarity. Under the dim light, the letters seemed to dance subtly to the rhythm of their breathing. She recalled having glimpsed another tattoo earlier on his upper arm. She hadn't seen it clearly, but she vowed to examine it later. For now, she simply observed Harvey, engraving every detail into her memory.

She smiled softly at the sight of him so relaxed, until her eyes fell lower on his back, and she froze. Also covered in scars, but these seemed even more brutal, if that were even possible. They were everywhere. Literally. Some of them were thin and tense, like the scratches of an invisible monster. Others, thicker, formed swollen patches where the flesh had rebuilt itself as best it could, a rough amalgam of new skin and old suffering. And while they didn't take away from his beauty, Donna couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him. What trials had he faced? What pain had he endured? What could even cause scars like those?

Carefully, she sat on the bed, making sure not to jostle him too much. She reached out, hesitant, before letting her fingers gently brush over one of the scars. His skin was warm beneath her touch, but the uneven texture of the scars sent a shiver through her. She felt Harvey tense immediately under her hand, but he didn't move. A moment passed, and then she felt him slowly relax, like he was giving her silent permission to continue.

Her fingers moved cautiously, tracing the path of each scar on his back. She couldn't stop herself from wondering about their origin.

"What happened to you?" she thought before realizing she'd said it out loud.

Harvey remained still, his face buried in the pillow. But he didn't stop her, and Donna continued to caress his skin, her fingers moving from one scar to another.

"A bomb happened," he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow.

The deep tone of his voice filled the room, heavy with memories he was reluctant to share. She paused her hand momentarily before resuming her soft caresses, treating each scar like it deserved its own moment of care.

She didn't press further, knowing full well that asking too many questions would only make him shut down. Instead, she hoped he might feel comfortable enough to share more. And her patience was rewarded.

"I spent 30 minutes trying to convince him he didn't need to go through with it. But he was doomed no matter what," he said, his voice faltering slightly but steady enough to push through. "If he went back to them alive… They would've executed him on the spot."

Donna felt her chest tighten, as though she were absorbing a fraction of his pain. She continued tracing invisible patterns on his skin, her touch so light it was almost imperceptible, but always present. Deep crevices streaked his back, bearing witness to the shards of metal that had pierced his flesh that day, irregular lines that seemed to recount the violence of the blast.

After a long silence, he added, his voice almost not audible this time, "He was… barely older than Max."

Those words hit Donna like a punch to the gut. It was hard enough to imagine that the bomb was actually a human bomb, but a child? She said nothing, because there was simply nothing to say. What could she possibly say to that? She couldn't even imagine Max in the middle of such chaos, it was an image she refused to entertain. She couldn't fathom what it must have been like to witness that. That children could be used because… What? They were born in the wrong place? It made her want to throw up. And yet, that had been Harvey's reality for years. Innocent people, children, caught in the middle of a conflict that didn't concern them.

And now Harvey trusted her enough to share a part of his demons. Donna looked up at him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his breathing seemed slightly shaky even though he was trying to hide it. It wasn't just the physical pain, or even the crushing guilt. It was also the humanity he had seen, destroyed and abandoned in circumstances no one should ever have to face.

And despite his back being covered in scars, none of them had touched his tattoo. As if they knew. No matter how hard they tried, none of them could take that away from him. As if the scars themselves had not dared to come close, intimidated by what the motto represented. As if they'd recognized its authority and hadn't ventured to desecrate those two words. It was almost poetic. He hated it and she worshipped it.

She slipped gently under the sheets and pressed her chest against his scarred back, offering him a comforting warmth. Her hand slid softly across his chest, and Harvey grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with hers. He didn't say a word—he didn't need to. The simple fact that he allowed this moment of vulnerability spoke louder than any words he could have found.

Donna felt the subtle pressure of his grip, a silent way of thanking her. She rested her forehead against his shoulder, her steady breath grazing his skin, and closed her eyes, savoring the intimacy of the moment.