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Pink was Harvey's favorite color.
Not in the widely understood way; no, it was his favorite color because it drove him nuts anytime his wife wore it. Donna did many things well, but she wore pink really well.
Too well.
It's true what they say, color can evoke certain feelings and emotions. And boy did he have feelings when he saw her today wearing that curve hugging low cut pink dress that exposed her bountiful bosom.
Feelings that he needed to release.
The last thing he heard when he left the garage was Mike chuckling. Frankly, he didn't care—he was glad Donna interrupted them. He hated the idea of making a commercial for the firm. It was part of their new public relations initiative that Harvey wasn’t in the mood for. Ever.
"Donna!" he yelled after her as she walked to the car to finish gathering her shopping bags.
“Hey,” she said, turning around. “Are you guys already done?”
“We are now, and leave the bags. I need you inside, right now," he told her, unbuttoning his suit jacket and loosening his tie soon after.
Donna tilted her head suspiciously. “Harvey, what are you…?” She never finished her question. His eyes were dark and he knew that she knew exactly what he was communicating to her.
Minutes later, they were in the bedroom and Harvey was dragging his hands up her thighs, taking her hot pink dress up over her hips, as his mouth was devouring hers in a passionate, hungry kiss.
Lips, tongues and breath were mashed and twisted together while their hands were on a frantic quest for skin. Donna pulled his suit jacket forcefully down his arms and threw it on the floor and Harvey groaned with anticipation. He just wanted to be inside her. Feel the warm, spongy center that he had claimed as his own.
His lips traveled down her neck and he tasted every freckle on her delicious skin. He swore she tasted like strawberries and his dick pulsated against the—now very tight—expensive suit fabric.
He forced himself to come up for air and with as much conviction as Harvey Specter can have, he demanded, “Now, Donna. I need you now!”
There were times when he made sweet love to Donna, and then there were other times. Times when all he wanted was to fuck her senseless.
This was one of those times.
She was busy lathering his neck with kisses when he instructed her and a tiny whine escaped her lips before she pulled away from their passionate exchange.
He caught a glimpse of her big brown eyes, dilated with desire and mischief, before she slowly turned her back to him. To his delight, she leaned over their king-size bed and braced herself with her forearms. Harvey watched as she spread her legs wide, her pink dress over her ass, and the best part—she still had her three inch pink heels on.
Electricity surged through his body as his eyes traveled up and down the magnificent Donna Paulsen-Specter display in front of him.
“Goddamn Donna,” he growled and a throaty giggle escaped his wife’s mouth in response.
He stepped closer against her backside now, running his hands once more along her hips and ass—massaging and pinching her flesh as he did so.
Donna whimpered as his fingers teased her lace-covered entrance from behind. He slid his hand down and moved her pink thong underwear to one side, then pushed two fingers inside her warm, spongy center.
Twin hisses and guttural moans filled the room as he twirled his digits inside her. She felt so good and it took everything inside him not to come right then and there. He closed his eyes in blissful delight as he moved his digits in and out of her. All the while, his very hard dick begged to be released.
With his other hand, he unzipped his pants, freeing his manhood.
When it came to sex, they had virtually accomplished everything together; their bodies were a never-ending playground of ecstasy. And fingering his wife was one of his favorite things to do.
He'd do it anywhere if he could. Much to his satisfaction (and hers), he had taken advantage of a well covered table or a far off dimly lit corner on many occasions. He was fairly certain Donna liked it as well, on the account that he made her come every time. Harvey knew her spot.
His dick pressed against the inside of her thigh and he continued to use his fingers to push her closer and closer to her edge.
Harvey wanted so badly to be inside her but he enjoyed pleasing his wife with his fingers too much to remove them, so without hesitation, he slid his hard member inside her, sharing the warm space with his fingers. He paused for a moment to make sure she was okay and when he slowly started to move his dick inside and out, she squirmed.
He whispered her name with breathy desire.
She yelled his name as if it were a filthy prayer.
“Harveyyyyy!”
Then she begged him, “Please, don’t stop!”
As Harvey performed a sexual rapture between her legs, their bodies drew nearer to bliss with each thrust of his dick and stroke of his fingers within her warm cocoon. His senses were parched for Donna. All he wanted was to drink all of her in. It was a thirst he had concluded early on that he would never quench. Because once he had her, he could never rid her from his system.
Harvey was drunk on Donna.
He pulled his fingers out, giving his dick unbridled access. Harvey—with both hands—seized either side of her hips for stabilization. He was pumping faster and harder and the warm friction was sending him closer and closer to his orgasm.
All Harvey wanted was to release every ounce inside her.
But he waited for her.
Because, when it came to orgasms, his wife always led the way.
Her name dripped from his tongue with every thrust and grind he lavished on her. And just when he thought he might have to take a break, Donna cried out.
“Here I come, Harvey!”
He could feel her walls tighten and contract around him, giving him the green light to surrender to his own carnal need.
He felt his come rise to the tip and his hands dug into her hips in preparation for the sensation that would soon rip through his entire body.
“Oh my god, Donna!”
He didn't know if he screamed it out loud or in his head but heat consumed every inch of him. Donna yelled his name like an oath as she rode the wave of ecstasy, taking him with her—spilling every ounce of his desire inside her.
The sound of loud breathing took over and Donna collapsed forward—stomach first—on the bed and he followed suit, laying his body beside her.
Turning her head toward him, she whispered his name and her hot breath against his face sent chills down the back of his neck.
“Harvey.”
His eyes were closed, still enjoying his post-coitus high, and he could only manage a half-hearted hmmm in return.
“You know I'm going to have to call the advertising agency again and have them send another crew to finish the commercial, right?”
Harvey opened his eyes and whined.
“Noooo. Donna, please,” he said playfully.
Donna scrunched her nose and giggled.
“You've endured worse things, Mr. Specter. You'll be fine.”
They both sat up and adjusted their clothing. Harvey rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. I’ll endure one more commercial. On one condition.”
“Oh, we're negotiating now, are we?” She leaned in for a kiss and he obliged.
“You damn well better believe it. You know I'm still the best closer in New York, and now you can add Seattle to the list.” He smiled his famous Specter smile.
Donna shook her head. "You're an idiot. Name your price.”
“Pink.”
“Pink?” Donna questioned him.
“You wear pink the day we film, and I promise to finish this time.” His hands were already pulling her in for round two.
She squinted her eyes suspiciously. “Harvey. If I'm not mistaken, me wearing pink is what got us into this mess in the first place.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she playfully nipped at his neck.
“Yes, well. Next time, I will know what's in store so I will gladly finish the commercial.”
She giggled at his flimsy argument, but Donna was always a good sport when it came to Harvey's antics.
“Okay, Harvey. You win. I’ll wear pink. But you never said what type of garment it has to be.” Donna said with a seductive smirk.
His eyes widened at the implied meaning.
“Shit, Donna. You're good.”
“Damn right, I am,” she said with Donna - confidence.
His lips found hers again; this time, their kiss was soft and slow and neither one spoke another word.
Round two had begun.