The door slammed shut.

Donna twined both arms around Josh's neck and started taking baby steps backward in the general direction of the bedroom. He moved with her, his mouth still fused to hers, his breathing harsh against her cheek, hot inside her mouth. She could feel his want, knew he was as desperate for this as she was, and the thought was reassuring, somehow. Showing up at his door tonight had felt more than a little like jumping off a cliff.

Her hip banged into the edge of the couch, bringing them to a clumsy halt, and Josh turned her slightly so that she was pressed up against the piece of furniture. He lifted his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks as he continued to explore her mouth with his tongue. She began unbuttoning his dress shirt, then pulled both it and his undershirt out of his waistband and slipped her hands underneath. At the feel of her fingers on his bare skin he made another one of those sounds deep in his throat and roughly tugged her away from the couch, moving them in the direction of his bedroom once more.

They bumped into a wall or two along the way, which made them laugh, but didn't slow them down. When they reached Josh's bedroom they started undressing frantically, tearing off their clothes and letting them fall to the floor. As Donna zipped off her boots Josh rummaged in the chaos of his nightstand drawer for a condom, then pulled her down on to the bed with him, packet in hand.

He rolled her on to her back and god, he just kept kissing her, hard, persistently, urgently, like he was never going to stop, like he couldn't ever get enough, and the intensity of it was nearly overwhelming. She was almost relieved when he finally pulled his mouth from hers and turned his attention to her breasts, drawing a nipple gently between his teeth. She gasped and curled her fingers in his hair; her free hand traveled down to his hip, to the soft yet firm skin of his ass, digging into that yielding flesh.

He bucked against her and lifted his head from her breasts, his eyes glassy with desire. "I have to --"

"Yeah," Donna said. She snatched the foil packet from his hand and tore it open, removed the condom, but before she could do anything else with it he plucked it from her grasp.

"I'd better do it," he said, and she couldn't help but grin as he clumsily attempted to roll the condom onto himself while making as little skin to skin contact as possible. He really was riled up.

When he was ready, he pounced on her, grabbing her legs and forcing them up, his shoulders pressing against her calves. Without preamble he pushed inside of her, sinking in deep. A glimmer of power coursed through her veins, that she could bring him to this state; power countered by the sensation of being possessed by him so completely.

He began pumping into her immediately, fast, short strokes, a low humming emanating from his throat, his cock hot and full in a way that was becoming familiar. She braced herself and matched his rhythm as best she could, as it was choppy and fast and --

-- and he came, quickly -- very quickly -- with a high-pitched roar that trailed off into a whimper. He stayed where he was for a moment, his head bowed, breathing hard, then pulled himself out of her with another strangled moan and fell onto the mattress beside her.

Donna looked up at the ceiling.

"Sorry," Josh panted.

"It's okay," she lied.

"I've just been so...and you got me so excited..."

"It's okay, Josh," she said, as nicely as she could manage to someone who'd just had an orgasm. She watched him hop out of bed and dispose of the condom in the wastebasket. When he got back into bed he curled up on his side, adjusted the pillow beneath his head.

"I'll make it up to you," he murmured.

"Don't worry about it."

"I just..." He trailed off. Took a breath. And another. She waited for him to finish the sentence, but additional words didn't appear to be forthcoming. Finally, she turned her head to look at him.

He was asleep.

"Great," she muttered. Well, she'd known the state he would be in when she'd decided to show up here. She really had no one to blame but herself. She lay there for a little while, listening to his heavy breathing, then finally eased herself out of bed and crept into the bathroom, where she used the facilities and took off her jewelry, her watch, in preparation for sleep. Stared at herself in the mirror, decided she looked tired. Frowned at the bags under her eyes.

She sighed, wondering not for the first time just when the rest of her life would approach something resembling resolution, and returned to bed. As soon as she slipped under the sheet, Josh snapped awake with an almost violent motion. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Nothing," she said. "Just, um, went to the bathroom."

"Did I -- fall asleep?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Shit. I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay," she said for the third time that night. "You're just tired."

"Yeah." He slid his arm over her stomach and pulled her closer to him, then drew back the sheet covering her chest and began lightly trailing his fingers over her breasts, down to her abdomen, and back again.

Donna made a sound of contentment and closed her eyes. A few more moments of that gentle, whispery touch, and then he pushed himself up and covered her body with his. She felt his mouth close over her breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple, his teeth nibbling gently on the hardened bud. When his hand covered her other breast she bit her lip, couldn't help a small moan.

He moved from one nipple to the other for a while, lavishing his attentions on one, then renewing his assault on the other, until she was fidgeting beneath him, her hips rising, the throbbing of her clit almost painful. Finally he abandoned her breasts, traced a slow, careful trail down her body with his mouth, bathing her hipbones, her belly button, the tops of her thighs. And then he lifted her legs, settled them over his shoulders, and pressed his mouth to her sex.

A sharp moan tore from her throat at the first flicker of his tongue against her clit. She lifted her head and watched him: his eyes closed as he concentrated on his task, his mouth working against her folds, his hands absently caressing her hips. As tension roiled through her she let her head fall onto the pillow, ran her foot up and down his back, reached up to squeeze her breast. The determined stroking of his tongue against her clit was exquisite, almost too exquisite, she couldn't take much more and -- "Oh god right there," she yelped as he hit just the right spot. He increased the intensity of his ministrations, exerting more pressure, focusing on that one sensitive piece of real estate and then oh -- "Oh god" -- she came, and god, the release of it, coming coming coming -- "Josh," she gasped, and it was the first time she'd said his name quite like that, during, and the shock of it brought her back to earth, oh god oh god oh god.

She closed her eyes, brought her hands up to cover her face, desperately drawing air into her lungs. Josh was lingering, placing soft kisses against her sex, on the skin of her inner thighs, his breath cool against her damp curls. Why had she said -- shit. It was too...vulnerable, too needy, and now --

Josh moved above her; she felt him kiss the back of her hand. "Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said hastily, removing her hands from her face. She grabbed his head, pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him hard, ignoring the taste of herself on his tongue. Josh trailed his fingers down the side of her face, and the tenderness of it scared her, made her wonder if he was doing it to make her feel better about saying his name; she responded by pushing him on to his back and reaching down to assess the state of his penis, which sounded awfully clinical, but right about now she needed to take refuge in technicalities. He was only partially erect, and so she slithered down the length of his body and took him into her mouth, sucking gently, tasting a hint of latex and salty sweetness and closing her eyes as his hands tangled in her hair.

She worked him delicately, purposefully, thrilling at each gasp and groan she elicited from him, until at last he swelled to full hardness in her mouth. She lifted her head, jaw hurting, and saw him watching her, his eyes dark. She broke the eye contact and scooted up on the bed, reached over him to plunder the nightstand drawer for another condom. (She didn't see the point in going on the pill until she figured out whether this -- whatever this was -- was going to last longer than a week.) She straddled his hips, and this time rolled the condom on herself, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as she did so. Finally she took hold of his cock and inched down onto him, wriggling and rocking until it felt just right.

Josh exhaled, gripped her thighs so hard it hurt, and bucked up into her. She bit her lip and leaned forward, her hair brushing against his chest, letting him set the pace, his surprisingly strong arms doing most of the work of moving her lower body, impaling her on his cock in a steady rhythm. Her new position translated to delicious friction against her clit, and it wasn't long before she felt her body tightening, felt that familiar churning inside of her.

"That's --" Josh gasped. They speeded up, the mattress creaking beneath them. His breathing was harsh and loud. "God, that's --" He trailed off into a groan, and she chanced a look at his face. He was staring at her, his lips parted, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip, something akin to awe reflected in his expression; and she couldn't deal with it, had to close her eyes, couldn't deal with not knowing if it was her, herself, or simply the act of sex engendering such reverence in his gaze. She concentrated instead on moving with him, on the delicious heat kindling inside her, on the friction of his skin inflaming her clit - this, this, was what she had come here for -- until she climaxed again, shuddering against him, clenching her muscles around him, surrendering to the fire.

"Almost," he whispered, still pumping up into her at a frantic pace, the muscles in his shoulders bunching from the exertion of his arms. "Almost..."

Donna clenched herself around him again, and soon enough he came, too, soft, guttural moans easing from his throat. She opened her eyes to watch him come, saw his head jerk back, his face a rictus of ecstasy. Memorized the sight, in case it was the last time.

When he was finished she pulled herself off of him and lay down beside him, sweaty and satiated at last. Josh rolled over on his side to face her. A curl of hair was matted to his forehead, and she resisted the urge to brush it away.

"That was better," he murmured.

"Yeah," she said, giving him a smile.

He got rid of the condom, then got back into bed and snaked his hand behind her neck, drew her to him for a kiss. God, he was so warm -- his skin, his mouth -- he bled heat. She kissed him back, running her palm over the stubble of his jaw, then pulled away, sank back into the pillow. "You should sleep," Donna said. "You look exhausted."

"'S 'cause you wore me out," he mumbled with a dopey grin.

"Oh that's why," she said dryly.

"Mmm hmm." His eyes fluttered closed, and he reached out a hand to stroke the inside of her forearm, then let his palm rest there. His thumb caressed the pulse in her wrist, but he didn't seek anything more. She let him do it, not sure what it meant.

In the morning, she thought, as she breathed in the scent of him in the dark. She was going to have to say something, anything, in the morning.

But for now, for this moment, her blood pounded beneath his touch.

End.