Co-written with Follow-ur-Shadow
Fear swirls in Donna's stomach, the shudder that erupts beneath her feet making her nervous. Thankfully, two seconds later the elevator comes to a standstill, the lights flicking back on, and she takes in a deep breath, grounding herself.
For the past week, heavy rains and storms have ravaged New York City, wreaking havoc with the city's power supply. The ensuing blackouts are becoming a nightmare, and Donna braces her palm against the wall, comforted by the solid body beside her.
Both working to further his career, she usually leaves the office around the same time as Harvey. They laugh and flirt, but since his dad passed a little over a year ago, Harvey has picked up the habit of calling her at odd hours. Every time, his voice breaches the line with an excuse, one that doesn't blur their boundaries and manages to keep a level of professionalism between them whilst making her feel needed and important.
She's been keeping herself from reading too much into the late-night conversations, assuming he's merely coming to terms with the loss of his father. But now, with the elevator motionless, he shifts closer to her, his fingers fanning out at the small of her back.
She breathes in sharply at the unexpected contact.
Touching has been off limits from the moment they agreed to put the other time behind them, so she turns to him, surprised to find his gaze darting frantically around the metal box they're trapped in. For as long as she's known him, not once did a situation throw him off balance, but he's visibly uncomfortable, and she needs to figure out what has him so on edge.
"Got somewhere to be?" she jokes, hoping to ease the tension, but instead of responding with a quip, he pales, flinching as he drops his arm and strides over to the emergency button, jamming it repeatedly with his thumb, and cursing when the effort proves futile.
"For fuck's sake." He bangs his fist against the metal, trying to draw air into his lungs, ashamed by the reaction he's having but powerless against it. He thought he was over his childhood phobia, but the panic tingling at the nape of his neck, threatening to consume him, tells a different story.
An image of an eight-year-old Marcus flashes before his eyes, his kid brother thinking it would be funny to lock Harvey in a closet. And it would have been, had the handle not snapped off, leaving him imprisoned in the dark for what felt like hours because Dickhead didn't bother to listen when Harvey pleaded to be set free. It wasn't until their parents returned that he was released.
He's actively fought the resulting claustrophobia that would sneak up on him now and then. However, since facing his brother at his father's funeral, this isn't the first vulnerability to surface, and he tugs on his tie, trying to funnel air into his chest.
Donna watches his trembling fingers work at his collar. She's been by his side long enough to know when to back off or stay her ground, and even though her instincts are to let him be, this is a unique situation, and he's not doing well. "What's wrong?"
She calls out his fear, and he hates her for being so perceptive. Yet he also leans towards her, not sure what else to do. "Nothing."
The grated response doesn't reassure her in the slightest, and she stretches her fingers up, not only ridding him of the tie but slipping open the first few buttons of his shirt. "Just relax."
He clenches his jaw, feeling further trapped by her proximity. So, he steps out of her orbit, moving towards the panel again and trying his luck with the emergency switch. When nothing happens, he places a hand on his forehead where he notices a thin sheet of sweat developing even though a shiver runs down his spine, and he wonders how it's possible to be freezing and burning up all at once.
Donna watches his shaking hand disappear into his pants pocket, his ashen complexion expanding, and she finds herself far more concerned about her boss than being rescued. "Harvey, talk to me."
"I'm fine, Donna," he grunts. "I just need some water." Yeah, water sounds good. Water would calm him down, his mind as well as his body and the anxiety raging inside him.
His breathing comes in short gasps, and she racks her brain for a way to help. "I don't have any water with me," she whispers carefully, unsure if he expected her to. In the time they've been working together at Pearson Hardman, she's anticipated his every need, but she couldn't possibly have foreseen this scenario, and yet she feels bad.
Eyes, dark as night, peer up at her as a bead of sweat drips off his cheek. His hair is disheveled from running his hand through it, and with his tie open and buttons undone, the deathlike pallor of his face makes him look mortally wounded. She doesn't care how in control he thinks he is, the man is having a panic attack, and she needs to relieve some of his distress or God knows what might happen.
She moves forward slowly, glad to have his eyes glued to her body. When she's within reach, she slides her hands over his arms, driving them upwards until they land on his chest. "I need you to breathe with me, okay?"
"How?" he asks, letting the weight of her touch ground him. There are few people he accepts orders from, but she is one of the few he has complete faith in, so he tries to focus on her, not the high pitched ringing in his ears.
"Just…" she takes a slow breath, willing him to do the same. "In." She exhales."Out."
Harvey follows her lead. For three whole inhales before the world around them shakes violently, the lights flickering and the cart dropping a few inches before plunging them back into stillness.
His fingers dig deep into her arms, nails puncturing her skin, and she knows they'll leave a mark. It's only when the lights strobe back on that she realizes her grip is equally harsh—needing him, too.
Their gazes meet, and she can almost hear the fear ricocheting in his chest. He tears away like a caged animal desperate for release, assaulting the button on the panel with a vigor that makes her jump.
"Goddammit!" he bellows.
She flinches at the aggression in his voice. "Harvey, relax. We're going to be fine."
"I can't relax, Donna!" They're swinging in a metal box some forty-eight floors above certain doom. If the cable gives, that's it. Game over. Or worse, he survives and she doesn't, and the prospect is all but paralyzing as he tries to think of a way out.
His gaze darts back and forth, blinking rapidly through wet eyes. There's a tightness in his shoulders, too. And coupled with his stubbornness, it makes Donna realize simple breathing exercises won't pull him out of his spiral. He needs something to distract him, to keep his control from snapping completely, and she leans backwards against the opposite wall with a warm smile. "Harvey. Come here," she coos, her voice void of tension as she tries to lure him forward.
He stills at her beckoning gaze, her hooded eyes toying with him. But her timing sucks. "What?" he barks. She has no right to be calm given their current quandary, and he allows his annoyance to get the better of him.
The corners of her mouth curve up at him with more assurance. "Come here. Please?"
They don't have time for her observations, but he knows her bait is irresistible—even when their world is probably seconds from ending—and sure enough, his frustration deflates somewhat as his feet reluctantly shuffle forward.
"A little closer," she whispers, pushing off the wall and waiting for him to meet her at eye-level.
He wrinkles a brow and swallows, but curiosity must propel him because he complies, and before his foot has time to touch the ground, her arms are around his neck and her mouth is closing over his.
His heart races from the shock of too much adrenaline being pumped through his body, but the feeling of her coaxing lips sedates him.
For a moment, he forgets where he is, who he is, and whatever else is supposed to be happening. And when she deepens the kiss, forcefully attacking his senses as the smell of her perfume encircles him, he is transported to another time and place. The gentleness in her effort is one he's sought since the night they were together, and he lets her guide him, lips pushing and pulling, her tongue joining the party as his body melts around her.
There's a new pounding in his brain from the unrelenting anxiety riding him, but Donna's kiss is the heaven to his claustrophobic hell, and he welcomes her way of distraction by drowning in her scent, her taste, her touch. His palms land on her waist, and without thinking, he pushes her against the wall, their lips only parting for a gasp of air.
He's not aroused, still too wired to be, but he can't stop himself from needing her—wouldn't know how to. The alternative would be going back to the realization they're trapped in a five-by-seven faulty mechanical box, suspended some four-hundred feet above ground. Yeah, he much prefers this reality.
The minute her spine arches into the wall, Donna confirms her diversion tactics work. She has his eager attention, and heat scolds her skin, burning from both his touch and her own abashment. She doesn't dare examine what she wants to happen if they're not rescued and saved from themselves in the next few minutes. All she knows is that the carefully crafted boundaries between them are on the brink of being wiped into oblivion.
A loud, shrill ring puts an end to her predicament, jolting the cart into a seamless, slow and steady descent, and their faces separate by an inch.
Harvey pants, feeling light-headed from a lack of oxygen. He doesn't want to be trapped, but he also doesn't want the elevator to be moving. He registers Donna fixing his tie and straightening his hair, wordlessly putting him back together.
"Are you okay?" she finally asks, and he isn't sure how to answer. He's alive, sort of, confused as fuck, and his next drink is going to be a triple.
When the doors open a few moments later, there are firemen and a group of people from building maintenance expressing their apologies and relief. Donna's hand, which had been clamping his arm, falls away as one firefighter asks them if anybody's hurt.
Donna looks at him when she says they're both fine. The compassionate smile accompanying her guiding gaze only reinforces how much he needs her.
"I'll take you home, Mr. Specter," he hears his driver say. The man must have been waiting for him, and Harvey briefly wonders how long they were trapped up there. But all he can think about is getting home. He's too distracted to extend the invitation, but Ray is quick to address Donna as well. "Would you like a ride, too, Ms. Paulsen?"
"I'll be fine," Donna answers swiftly. A brisk walk in the fresh air to clear her head is exactly what she needs right now, but Harvey vetoes the idea.
"Come on, we'll drop you off." He's not quite ready to be distanced from her and deserts the crowd, leading them to the front door.
Donna shares a glance with Ray and knows there's no point arguing as they follow closely behind Harvey, who, when they get to the car, reaches for the handle and swings it open for her.
"Donna." The whisper is hoarse before she gets in. "Thanks."
"You're welcome, Harvey." She steps off the sidewalk, and before she lets herself slide into the backseat, she pauses. "It can be our secret," she winks, ducking her head as she climbs inside the vehicle with a knowing smile.
"Hey." Donna smiles from her desk to the man in the doorway.
The tension that's been plaguing her all day wanes instantly as Thomas steps into her office.
She's running late and told him to come up, stealing as much time as she could to sign off on a few more reports. But the mere sight of him makes her want to shove responsibilities in the trash and drag him out of here.
The past couple of months, he's been a blissful distraction from the stress the firm has been under. Thomas Kessler is a match on every front, embodying the more she's been looking for. So, she quickly glides her fingers over the keyboard and hits 'Send', eager to go home with her boyfriend.
"If you're not finished, I can wait." He nods to the couch, not wanting to rush her while his eyes travel over her frame. He takes in the off-white blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt that has a slit way up her thigh and imagines sliding his hand under that black fabric to find the red lingerie he saw her choose this morning.
His dick twitches at the thought.
"Well, I can't." A sultry smirk paints her lips as she closes her laptop. His neatly pressed suit and broad muscular shoulders are already calling her attention, and she swipes her phone and purse off the table, standing to greet him properly.
He grins, gripping her waist with a firm squeeze. "Good... Because I was actually just being polite." Her laugh muffles against his kiss, his large hands palming up the zipper of her skirt. "I really don't want to wait, either."
His voice hums below her ear, his fingers toying with the metal fastening, and she knows he's teasing. The floor may be void of people, but her office walls are still made of glass, and they are visible to anyone floating around. Yet her body ignores its own internal warning. If anything, it encourages the fantasy, desire flushing her cheeks as she tugs at the cuff of his sleeve. "We're getting out of here, now."
Directing their bodies with a grin, absorbed by the feel of his wandering hands, she almost doesn't notice Harvey standing at the elevators until he purposefully clears his throat. Her gaze flicks up to his, and she awkwardly clutches Thomas' wrist, pushing his arm down.
She hadn't noticed Harvey walking past her office, but then again, her mind had been elsewhere, thinking about all the ways she would let Thomas have his way with her tonight.
"Heading home?" Harvey asks as the doors open.
The sight of Donna and Thomas together no longer wrenches his gut. She's seemingly happy dating the CEO, and her happiness is far more important than his personal disappointment will ever be. And yet, he can't shake that ripple of regret that envelops him every time he sees the couple.
Not too long ago, right at these elevators, he'd been ready to take the plunge and ask her out. But his epiphany had come too late. And now, here they are. The three of them; Donna and Thomas looking forward to a night together, and him spending the evening in the company of scotch and vinyl.
He's happy for her, he reminds himself. Really. Goddamn. Happy.
Grinding his molars, he steps to the side and lets Donna go in first. Thomas follows and for a split second he entertains thinking up an excuse to head back to his office, but Donna's apologetic gaze lures him inside against his own volition.
"Actually, we're going out to dinner," she says, trying to break the ice.
The doors slide shut.
"Yeah, I'm taking her to The NoMad," Thomas chips in, slipping his arm around his girlfriend's waist as the cart starts its gradual descent.
Harvey tries to ignore the man's hold, squashing down a surge of possessiveness he has no right to feel when the elevator suddenly stutters like a scratched record, shaking violently as if someone pulled on the brakes. Their journey grinds to a halt, the lights flickering on and off overhead, a forewarning to the full-blown darkness that consumes the space a moment later, casting them in an eerie silence.
The curse is Harvey's as he stumbles over his feet, tripping and landing his palm flat over the emergency button. "Goddammit," he swears at the quiet that continues to resonate. "Not again." He mumbles the words into the ether, forgetting he isn't alone. His body is already on high alert, his heart pounding loudly at the predicament that's unfolding. Absentmindedly, he mirrors the beating rhythm with his fist on the panel.
"Harvey." Donna tries to soothe his frustration, her palm searching for him in the blackness. She can't see a thing, but her fingers find him out of instinct, stilling the arm busily trying to dent the metal. "They'll get us, okay? We can't be the only ones left in the building."
"What if we are?" He breathes in sharply. It wouldn't be the first time they've both gone home after the security shift ended, and visions of being trapped all night fill him with more widespread panic.
"The power will come back on," she says, stroking his arm, wary of flooding him with memories from when they were in a similar situation—especially since her unorthodox methods of distracting him aren't really an option this time around. But they were fine then, and they will be now. "It did last time, remember? Trust me."
In the darkness, he can't see shit, but her presence is palpable, her low whisper only inches away, and he wishes he could put his hands on her waist. He needs a beacon, something to draw calmness from. But they aren't alone, and he stuffs his clenched fists into his pants pockets.
"Last time? You got stuck before?" Thomas asks, and his voice does nothing to ease Harvey's panic.
But Donna's does. For a moment, at least. Her dulcet tone washes over him as she explains to Thomas what happened all those years ago. She omits the part where they kissed, probably to keep her boyfriend from getting the wrong idea about where they stand. He appreciates her integrity until his spiralling mind wonders if perhaps she's just ashamed of his sorry ass.
Dammit. Frustrated, he combs a hand through his hair and loosens his tie, hoping it will ease the impression of a noose around his neck.
A sizzle of electricity whirs, white noise disrupting the speaker, and Harvey nearly jumps out of his skin when a male voice booms through the metal box. "You folks okay in there?"
"Yes," Thomas says, stepping towards the sound. "For now. How long until you can get us out?"
"The entire block is out, so we're gonna be awhile. Just hang tight, okay?"
"What the fuck is awhile?" Harvey barks. If there's power coming through the intercom, there should be light, but it must be his goddamn luck to be in the one cart that has the backup bulb broken, too. Fuck!
"We're not sure, yet. The Fire Department is gonna try to get a truck over to you as soon as possible, but they said it could be at least an hour."
"Goddammit!" Harvey groans, retreating to the opposite corner where he runs a hand over his face at the prospect of being stuck in here for a whole fucking hour. The bloody death-trap could give way any minute, and a thin layer of sweat is already forming on his forehead. He feels like screaming. But he can't. He won't crumble in front of Thomas, glad that the darkness is hiding his shaky frame as he clings to his sanity by the skin of his teeth.
Out of nowhere, a hand wraps around his bicep.
"Alright. Keep us updated," Thomas says, the white noise crackling out the only answer he receives in response.
"I can't do this, Donna," Harvey grunts. He is not yet gasping for air, but that invisible noose makes it seem like he is sucking oxygen through a tiny straw. He almost wishes that the cable keeping them suspended in mid-air would snap already and put him out of his misery. But the tormenting image only adds fuel to the fire, and soon he's stuck in a vicious circle of thoughts he knows there is no escaping from.
"Yes, you can," she whispers.
Her other hand squeezes his other bicep and she's cornering him with her presence. The elevator and his jumbled mind hold him captive, but her body—restrictive in its own way—feels more like a shield than a constriction, and he focuses on her voice.
"Just breath, remember? In." She demonstrates the action. Then exhales. "And out." She repeats the instruction, urging him to follow suit.
Thomas listens to the exchange with an uneasiness creeping up his spine. There's something clearly wrong with Harvey, but Donna seems on top of it, and he waits, trusting his girlfriend to help her "friend"—a description he's come to question more often lately.
Much to her disappointment, Harvey doesn't jump right in and join her. His frigid body is unmoving, his breathing ragged, and his silence deafening. So, she moves her palms to his pecs to see if the motion can be detected that way instead. "Come on, Harvey. In. And out."
She feels his fingertips trail from her sides down to her hips where they clench her frame, but his chest hardly expands, although she can feel his pounding heart as if it was her own.
"Donna," he says, surprised by the gravel in his voice. He feels like he's dying, torn between surrendering to death or putting her—his everything—in the really shitty position of having to choose. Because breathing exercises don't help. He needs her to leave him breathless instead.
The anxiety propels him, stripping away proper decorum. Screw Thomas. He had her first. And they might all plummet to their deaths, and he rather not die without telling her how he feels. Although he likely will have to, because he won't put her in an awkward position when the three of them are stuck together. Still, the memory of their kiss then, combined with the longing coursing through his veins right now, moves him to pull her body close. "Donna, please."
"Harvey..." She knows exactly what he needs, but unlike last time, not only are they not alone, the third party is the man she's dating.
Taking a steadying breath, she wonders if easing Harvey's suffering is worth jeopardizing her relationship. But the dilemma is not a question at all. Of course it is. She'll do anything for Harvey, as he would for her. And she will do this now, regardless of the consequences.
For a while, they are suspended in time, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling as she waits for his move.
"What's going on over there?" Thomas asks, confused by the silence.
Under his grip, Harvey feels how Donna wants to jump backwards, out of his grasp, but he holds her in place. "Thomas," he warns, and Donna's palms ease over his chest again. "I need her." Hoping to add weight to his statement, he drags her body towards him until he can securely envelop her slender frame with his arms. Then he chases the warmth of her breath until she stops breathing altogether, and his lips find hers in the darkness.
She doesn't retreat, instead, she leans into him, her arms snaking over his shoulders.
The kiss draws his thoughts into another realm, one in which only Donna exists, and it works like a heavy dose of Xanax to his anxiety-riddled body.
Following his lead, Donna joins in the push and pull of lips until Harvey opens his mouth further and begins to explore with his tongue. He feels her hesitate and moves a hand to cradle her head, fingers tangling in her hair.
She gives in, uncaring about how she'll explain this to Thomas later. Somewhere around the fringes of her consciousness she recognizes that this kiss is unlike the last time they were trapped. And it isn't only to calm Harvey. The main reason, she thinks, must be because she doesn't want to shelve this under 'things they don't talk about'. She wants this kiss to have consequences, to force her to choose, because, deep down, she's aware her choice is already made.
Harvey's panic slowly subsides and is replaced by something primal burning in his soul. She is not his, but he hungers for her with every fiber of his being. However, in the event he won't be able to show her again how he craves her, he decides to show her now.
Deliberately, his palms return to her waist before they slide down over her perfectly rounded ass, and Harvey digs his fingers in. In reply, she whimpers, pressing her breasts into his chest, grinding her pubis against his crotch.
He is rock hard, her soft moans like a choir of angels in his ears and an intoxicating drug at the same time. He'll do what he can to encourage that sound again, and in that moment he realizes that should they make it out of this alive, he's going to fight for her like no courtroom or boxing ring has ever seen him fight before.
Thomas, listening to the familiar sounds of Donna's delight, feels his body responding immediately. She's kissing Harvey because the lawyer needed her to. But she seems to be enjoying it, and if nothing else, he appreciates her pleasure. Mindlessly, he cups his growing arousal, knowing he will remain invisible in the dark.
He expected her tactics to last but a minute, but he soon realizes they don't intend to stop in the foreseeable future. Perhaps, while his girlfriend is occupied with tranquilizing Harvey, he can make the experience enjoyable for her as well.
Donna feels her skirt being lifted, and a heartbeat later, Thomas' hand is sliding between her thighs, higher and higher until his finger sweeps along her wet panties.
Harvey's tongue is busy dueling with her own, but the added motions from her boyfriend are increasing the heat of their kiss. And when Thomas thrusts a finger inside, she jerks in response, alerting Harvey in the process when their lips disengage. The subsequent moan she fails to contain adds fuel to the fire when Donna's mouth merges with Harvey's again. And Harvey isn't holding back either, his distress as well as something carnal unleashing between them.
So far, she's been good at keeping her hands from roaming, but as exploring digits decide to travel down his chest, she finds his nipple taut and, without thinking, pinches him to entice more. She can't be sure of her intention. Does she want to arouse him? Or is it just a response to her own body's craving now that Thomas has two fingers inside her? Regardless of her intent, Harvey responds by cupping her breast, and she leans into the touch.
Behind her, Thomas grinds his burgeoning erection into her hip, and Donna rewards him by breaking her kiss with Harvey, but not before she scratches her fingernails down the front of his fly, to let him know she'll be back.
Leaning over her shoulder, her mouth finds Thomas', and immediately Harvey attaches his lips to her jugular and begins to undo the buttons of her top.
Harvey isn't sure how far they'll take this, but right now Donna is stroking him over his pants, and he is not about to tell her to stop. More importantly, his claustrophobia no longer soars, merely hums in the background, giving him room to bask in her touch.
Donna reaches behind her and finds Thomas' thick length straining against its wool confines, so she cups him too and synchronizes her movements while absently comparing bulges; hardness, size. She's had them both, and they each rank high on her list of favorites, for different reasons. Stamina, creativity, attention. Briefly, the thought of mixing and matching shimmers through her consciousness and a shiver runs down her spine.
At the same time, Harvey pushes her now unbuttoned blouse down her shoulders and with a flick of his wrist, Thomas undoes her bra clasp.
She doesn't know at which point the men decided to make this a team effort, but she isn't complaining.
When Harvey's lips settle on an exposed nipple, the sound of a belt getting unbuckled ricochets off the walls of their confinement, and Thomas breaks their kiss, pulls her hips to him, and spreads her legs.
Bracing herself on the handrail, she fuses her mouth with Harvey's as Thomas slides inside her welcoming core. He thrusts slowly at first, allowing her a moment to adjust, but rapidly picks up speed, and Donna's mind blurs from pleasure she wishes to share. So, she gropes Harvey again and whispers against his lips, "Unzip."
As he fumbles with his belt, she starts on his shirt, making quick work of the buttons to expose his chiseled chest. It's been a while—too long—since she's seen him naked, and the vision she conjures while running her hands over the ridges of his muscles only adds to her building climax.
To imagine him doing the pounding with her helplessly trapped beneath that godlike body is remarkably easy, and she surrenders to the fantasy.
What follows is the swoosh of a zipper coming down and then the shuffle of fabric. Harvey closes his fingers over her wrist and guides her from his stomach to his arousal.
Eagerly, she wraps her palm around his warm, hard length and slowly strokes him up and down.
For Harvey, knowing Donna is able to confidently master the situation while being fucked threatens to end the party before it even begins. Her breasts bounce to Thomas' rhythm, and all he wants is to hear her come while he still has his own mind. So, he slips a hand between her legs and starts rubbing until she wails.
A sheen of sweat develops on her forehead as his fingers soak in her juices, and he knows she's close, the sweet sounds of her orgasming clear in his memory. He listens to every moan and every plea until he has her begging.
"Come for me," he demands as she fumbles with his erection, too lost to do any real damage. Seconds later, she clings to his body, hands latching on to his biceps as she nears the abyss.
Then the pitch of her voice raises, and all she utters is 'fuck' and 'yes' in quick succession, faster and faster.
Harvey almost comes undone.
Donna squeezes her eyes shut, like she's blinded by a light, then expels a loud cry while her nails dig into his arms.
Like a bomb exploded, her ears ring from the blistering release, and her legs shake in a manner that makes her think she'll never walk properly again. But before her mind settles and she thinks this is it, Harvey pulls her flush against him, his thick length trapped between their bodies.
"My turn," he drawls. Bending down, he hooks an arm under her knee and hoists her leg up, then waits for her to find her balance.
To steady herself, Donna wraps her arms around his neck as she braces for his next move. She revels when he doesn't need his hands to locate her entrance and sheaths himself inside her without warning.
Sheer delight paints a smile on her face for no one to see.
The pleasure, confusion and post-climax haziness make for a misty cocktail, and somewhere in her mind she knows Thomas might object. She expects him to, but he remains quiet. Instead, she feels his bare chest brush against her spine as his lips tease her ear. He doesn't speak, though, but darts his tongue along the shape, dipping inside as a finger slips into her ass. Warm breath tickles her ear, the sound of Thomas' exhales too loud for her senses, and she throws her head back, demanding more. Her boyfriend acquiesces, panting, licking, while Harvey goes for the pulse point on her exposed neck, which he finds effortlessly.
She nearly comes again, all her erogenous zones being attacked simultaneously. So, she holds Harvey even tighter, the sensation already overwhelming.
Soon, Thomas' wet cock teases her anus. In response, she inhales a sharp breath and digs her nails into Harvey's chest, nervous for what's about to happen. Thankfully, he must recognize her apprehension because he quickly captures her lips with his own—the move successful in distracting her.
"Just focus on me, okay," he murmurs a moment later when he feels Thomas enter her gingerly, the man's sizable erection tangible as it slides against his own, separated only by a delicate layer of skin.
Like a flash of lightning, Donna is hit with a sharp bite of pain, and she winces, but Harvey is quick to pull her chin upwards and devour her mouth. He withdraws his hips slowly before thrusting back up again, and the discomfort vanishes instantly, being replaced with a thrill she's never known before as Harvey and Thomas both drive into her.
A tsunami of bliss takes her hostage, leaving her gasping for air while she drowns in delight. The darkness consumes her vision but adds a new dimension to all her other senses, and her legs shudder in protest. Never in a million years did she think her body could accommodate two men shaped like them. But as they drive into her heat at a steady pace, she thinks she might never want just one again.
"Fuck," Harvey curses. She's tight around him, tighter because of Thomas invading her as well, and he won't last long. Especially with Donna's breath on his skin, her body helplessly flush against his own in the dark.
Donna thanks the heavens above Harvey is holding her up, because the leg touching the floor is about to give. In fact, her entire being shudders, and she digs her nails into Harvey. "I'm coming," she whimpers, her fingers tearing at his hair as she bites down on his clothed shoulder.
"Me too," he grunts into her hair.
Thomas, feeling like a third wheel, keeps his mouth shut. He's a hair's breadth away from shattering himself when he feels Donna's walls spasm. Over Harvey's dick. But she moans and tightens as her orgasm peaks, and he buries his nose in her neck as she pulls him with her over the edge, nothing but a low growl leaving his lips.
Harvey tries to keep his voice down, but this climax is unlike any he's ever experienced. The adrenaline, the darkness, feeling Thomas' presence in her body. As his abdomen contracts and his balls strain, he can't help but grunt a loud 'Fuck' before he, too, topples over the edge.
She coaxes him through the waves of delight, her fingers massaging his scalp as he kisses her one last time before they have to return to reality.
As if on cue, the voice from the panel echoes through the elevator. "Folks, we are restoring power now, and we're getting you down in just a few minutes. Hang in there."
Donna hears the rustle of clothing and she swiftly dresses herself, closing the last button of her blouse when the lights suddenly flicker on, drenching the cart in a harsh brightness that she can't blink away. Harvey's eyes are the first thing she manages to pull into focus, the realness of what just happened landing squarely in her chest. Their inhibitions are no longer shielded by the cover of darkness. She can see everything Harvey wants burning in his gaze, and when the elevator jerks, starting its delayed descent, she wobbles on her feet.
Two pairs of hands reach out to steady her, and she knows she has to make a choice.
The man standing in front of her, who has owned her heart from the moment they met over a decade ago, or the man standing behind her, who embodies the promise of everything she's ever wanted: a reliable relationship—something Harvey has never been ready for.
When the doors inevitably open and the adrenaline drains from Harvey's system, there are no guarantees he'll still want more. But his eyes speak louder than her fear, and she instinctively leans forward, hearing Thomas' heavy sigh of defeat as his palms fall away.
Harvey gazes over her shoulder, meeting the man's stiff nod. And, shit. He never meant for this to happen, but he's not sorry it did. Before, there was always a certainty he didn't want a relationship with her for whatever fucked up reason he mustered at the time, but right now, there is no doubt she is everything he wants.
"Thomas…" she says, turning around.
Her voice wavers, and yeah, he is disappointed. But he knew they were over the moment his girlfriend turned her attention to the lawyer, willing to sacrifice what they had for the man she called her friend. Besides, he didn't lose out completely. He got to have her in a way she's never experienced before. As far as he's concerned, exceeding the bar Donna Paulsen sets is enough of an ego boost to let him walk away with his pride intact and no hard feelings.
The doors part, revealing a crowd of people, and he winks at the pair, expelling a hushed whisper. "The two of you ever get bored, call me some time."
Harvey's grip cinches around her waist as Thomas steps out. "I don't think I'll want to share you again."
She smiles, no longer worried about leaving the confines they've been trapped in. He's obviously made up his mind about what he wants. There's no going back, and when they exit the cart, brushing off concern from the rescue efforts, she finds Ray's concerned face among the group. She grins at him, clutching Harvey's hand.
"Take us home, Ray."