Hands-Free Mode

The West Wing: Josh x Donna mild smutfic, filling an anonymous request for “wicked” + “tremble” within a scenario where Donna has the upper hand over Josh. Possibly NSFW, behind a cut just in case. PS: these characters aren’t mine, please don’t sue me.

When she practically crashed through his door, Donna took him by surprise. She kept doing that. What was it he’d been told once, that he needed to get hit upside the head?

Water balloons notwithstanding, there was something breathtaking about the way Donna didn’t hesitate these days. Josh couldn’t claim the same confidence; he hovered somewhere between awkward and anxious, and it was worse with her because she was everything. It felt like he’d been waiting a lifetime to reach this point.

Her urgency was different tonight, more focused. He removed her shirt and slacks while their mouths were desperately fused, but she leaned away before he could reach for the clasp on her bra.

“No hands, okay?” Donna said against his mouth, and he nodded, bewildered. What did she expect him to do without his…

And then his brain flicked off like a light switch in the dark room, the moment her fingers slid down to very deliberately graze him before she unzipped his pants.

Reflexively he reached out to grip her hips, swallowing hard when she pushed his hands back and leaned away again.

“No hands,” she reminded him firmly.

Giving in, Josh rested his hands back at his side, and was rewarded with a long, slow kiss, her tongue brushing his until he let his eyes close.

She pressed closer, soft and warm where her skin was exposed, and he bit back a moan. He really kind of needed his hands, to be able to do the things–touch the places–that he liked.

Feeling the tension he was barely holding back, Donna nipped at his neck, just under his jawline, and laced her fingers with his. When she rocked a little, hands entwined, it brought back delicious memories of their first time–but her hands were keeping his trapped, as they twitched to touch her.

She used their interlaced fingers to draw him to the bed, pressing him into the mattress in a way that set all of his nerve endings on fire.

Raising their hands above his head, Donna felt him shudder and smiled. “No hands,” she breathed into his ear, punctuating her words with a thrust against him until he was incentivized to keep his palms flat on the bed when she released them.

Lips curved, she added, “Grip the sheets if you need to. Just not me. Okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” Josh replied, unable to trust himself to speak while she was still on top of him, center to center.

“Good.” Nodding in satisfaction, Donna began trailing kisses down his chest. She finally had him where she wanted him, and no intention of letting him go until she was finished.

Josh didn’t bother hiding the tremble that went through him as her warm, determined mouth headed lower. At her mercy now, he couldn’t do anything but get lost in the moment.

He didn’t just grip the sheets in his successful attempt at holding back; he ended up ripping them at three corners. A small price to pay for Donna’s wicked smirk the next day when Otto bumped into him at the office.

Josh carried the tender bruises around for the rest of the week.


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