As we get ready to embark on Arrow Season 7 (Bring it on, please!) This little ditty came to my mind. It was spurred by a couple of little moments that begged for expansion in earlier seasons. A) Felicity bought Oliver a bed for the Arrow cave/lair... and B) An image I've spotted online a couple of times showing Felicity in her own Arrow disguise. Go ahead, let your minds run...obviously I have! haha!
Yes, there's only one chapter to this right now. I'm going to leave it open for another chapter - as I have with several of my works - but who knows where the Olicity muse will lead me next!
Please leave me your comments, suggestions and ideas if you'd like me to continue this story or any of the others! Your reviews feed my muse! lol :)
Thanks for reading and KTOSS (Keep the Olicity Ship Sailing! 3),
-ADCG
Scenarios: Leather
"Damn, that's a lot of leather."
The younger man wearing a deep red outfit and the older, muscular ex-soldier wandered toward the back room in the hidden work space.
The older man laughed. "You're not kidding," Diggle grinned a sideways smile as he and Roy stared at the pile of clothing left on the floor in the area that had once been Oliver's makeshift bedroom.
That was years ago, when Oliver Queen first returned home and was trying to figure out who he was and what being a vigilante/hero actually meant to his tormented life.
Soon after that, the young, blonde IT woman was commandeered to join Oliver's cause. But - John Diggle ran through the timeline in his mind - it was probably around the same time that Oliver Queen, aka the Hood, aka the Arrow, aka the Green Arrow began to realize that he was in love with that IT genius named Felicity Smoak.
The few years that followed had included a relationship between Oliver and Felicity that survived more ups and downs, ins and outs than most couples would even consider in a nightmare. It included engagements, dis-engagements, re-engagements, two impromptu weddings and even a prison term for Oliver that Felicity didn't think either of them would survive.
And yet when Oliver was released from that prison and came home to her a few weeks ago, the couple glowed with the love that remained between them. It seemed as though they were picking up exactly where they left off before Oliver was arrested – minus, perhaps, a few of the secrets that the superhero had withheld from his wife.
"No more secrets; no more lies." Felicity had spelled that out pretty specifically after Oliver had set her feet back on the ground and actually taken his lips off of hers so that she could speak, albeit not completely coherently.
John and Roy Harper – the man in red - had been slightly surprised just a few days later when Oliver came into the lair saying he needed a little time out of Felicity's presence.
"You can't tell me she's being an overbearing wife," John had laughed when Oliver sat down at one of the computers and closed his eyes.
"No," Oliver quickly answered and shook his head. "I'm…I'm afraid I'm coming on too strong. I haven't let her out of my sight since I've been home. She mentioned something this morning about how she's gotten used to being alone..."
Roy looked at his mentor with questioning eyes, "Isn't that understandable? She had to take care of William and herself, yeah, but when she went to bed at night and got up in the mornings she was by herself. She just needs to adjust to you being home again, that's all."
Oliver looked at the man who had fallen in love with his baby sister and rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly what I'm talking about," he took a deep breath and looked at Diggle then back at Roy.
John leaned his head back with a little more understanding. "You've missed being with her," he began.
Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Roy caught onto the hidden meaning of their conversation. "You're not telling me that makeup sex hasn't been on your agenda…" he looked between Oliver and Diggle as both men rolled their eyes.
"Well of course it's been on the agenda. I just don't want Felicity to think that that's ALL I'm thinking about," Oliver admitted.
"But?" Diggle dared to ask.
"I just need some time and space…to get myself under control," Oliver breathed deeply.
Dig looked at him more seriously. "Oliver, is Felicity okay?"
"Yeah," Oliver answered quietly. "I mean, yeah, she wondered why I was leaving and why she couldn't come with me."
"So you haven't overstepped your bounds?" Diggle's fatherly words made sense to Oliver.
"No," Oliver smiled softly. "She is my perfect partner. I'm just afraid I'm going to push too far." He pressed his lips together in thoughtfulness of just how perfect Felicity had been, fulfilling, most-willingly, desires that they had both been denied while he was imprisoned.
Since that day Oliver had gotten back to business figuring out a path for his life and work post-prison, post city-savior. In his mind, he was finding a way to balance his neediness for his wife and what he assumed was her lack of need for him.
Another week or so passed with Oliver's presence in the lair becoming status quo. Little else was said about his home life, other than typical stories of William's school events, Felicity's very-capable mothering abilities – and her much-improved cooking skills. She had even made her own appearances in the secret setting and never hesitated to make contact with her husband.
Dig and Roy noticed, but didn't pay particular attention to, the little kisses she placed on his cheek or his lips, her hand on his back, shoulder or chest, and the discussions that didn't require her to be in his face and yet, that's where she seemed most comfortable.
Not once did Oliver protest. To their friends, he actually enjoyed her closeness.
But, the previous night had been an eye-opener for all three of the men who were trying to get Oliver's life back on track. As they sat in the lair going over criminal records, mug shots and political strategies all felt content that their leader was finding his way back into his roles as husband, father and normal, everyday citizen.
But at 10:00pm, when the door of their man-cave rattled, none of them were prepared for the sight that walked in.
The green hooded figure was about 5'4". She was dressed in an outfit that fit her body snugly, the dark green leather hugged her legs, her hips, her waist, chest and arms much the way Oliver's disguise had fit him. The heels on the black leather boots were about three inches high, and she wore them with purpose. And then there was the hood that she wore. It was simple but affective, cloth with a black mask covering her eyes.
But the blonde hair flowing from beneath the hood gave her away.
Felicity stepped just inside the heavy sliding door of the facility and stood there looking at the two males who stood gaping at her.
The third man, her husband, stood up quickly and let his eyes wander over her body from head to toe. His muscles flexed under the cotton t-shirt he was wearing. That was partly because of the tightness he began to feel within the jeans that covered his lower half.
The sound that followed his initial once over was a growl that would match a defensive animal.
John and Roy's heads jerked around to see the look in Oliver's eyes as his piercing gaze was fixed on his wife.
"Felicity…" her name sounded almost harsh leaving his mouth, but it was exactly what Felicity had hoped to hear.
Felicity stood, staring back at her husband without a smile on her face. "Oliver," she spoke just loud enough for them to hear her, with a quivering voice, "I want my husband," she added slowly.
Oliver swallowed roughly. At that moment there weren't two other people in the room. He took slow steps toward Felicity and reached up delicately to touch the shoulder of her costume.
John and Roy made their way to the door, not daring to say a word to either of their friends. But as they walked out, closed the door to the lair and made their way to the steps of the building Roy stopped and looked at Diggle.
"I…I left my phone…" he looked back toward the door.
Diggle shook his head. "You're outta luck, Man. I don't suggest going back in there till we know the coast is clear."
Roy nodded and puffed some air from his cheeks, "So, I guess Felicity's ready for Oliver to lose some of that control, huh?"
Dig laughed from his belly. "I hope Oliver survives."
Felicity stood still as her husband gave her another full once-over with his eyes. His fingertips reached out to touch the hood that covered her head, the additional pieces of leather that adorned her shoulders and the gauntlets that encased her wrists.
His eyes were hungry. Felicity had seen that as soon as he laid those blue eyes on her when she entered their secret fortress. It was exactly what she wanted.
After two short weeks of being home with her and William, Oliver had started putting up some sort of invisible barrier between then. He was out of bed before her, showered while she was getting breakfast and 'working' late, finding his way to bed just in time to hold her as she fell asleep.
A couple of nights each week he had given in to her advances but even then the word restraint was at the forefront of Felicity's mind.
It had become enough of an issue - for her - that she pulled on her "head-of-the-household" pants – which in this case happened to be leather and mimicked her husband's former, sexy-she-might-add, crime-fighting uniform - and decided to force his hand along with other parts of his anatomy.
Her mind had gone in a couple of different directions on this issue. The first was purely selfish. The first route simply took her down the road that had left her lonely and wanting him every day that he sat in that prison cell. She wanted her husband. She wanted her husband. She wanted every part of her husband, every available moment they could find together.
If she hadn't conveyed that message to him, yet, then it would become the top of her agenda.
The second direction led Felicity to believe that perhaps something had happened to Oliver in prison, other than the cuts and bruises and scars that she could physically see. She had worried about the emotional toll his confession and imprisonment might cause. Oliver's obvious attempts to keep himself away from her presence made her revisit that worry.
And the third thought was one that she wouldn't accept…period. Oliver having an affair. She knew he had been with Dig and Roy. They had confirmed that for her every night when she texted one of them to ask if her husband was with them. She had threatened them both about lying to her on this topic. And there was that ample amount of faith left in her that her Oliver – the man who had fallen in love with her and continued loving her throughout her own ups and downs – was still the man who came home to her from Slabside.
As her mind had circled again and again through those three scenarios, she had finally focused on the first one.
That's why she was now standing here, wearing an outfit she had had custom-made on a whim…in a mental bout with herself years prior over becoming even more of a partner for her not-yet-at-the-time husband.
"What are you doing here?" Oliver finally looked back into her mask-covered eyes and spoke in a gruff voice, just above a whisper. "What is…this…" he grasped the hem of her hood between his index and middle fingers and pulled on it.
Felicity didn't smile at him. She reached up with one hand and grasped his wrist, keeping her eyes locked on his.
"I want my husband back," she spoke slowly, concisely, far from the realm of her babbling that Oliver adored.
"I'm here," Oliver breathed out without moving from her gaze or her grip. "I'm not going anywhere."
"But you do," Felicity's face fell, slightly, with the weight of her emotions. "Oliver, we've been apart for months. You made love to me every night for nearly two weeks when you came home and then…" she took a moment to breathe in, "then practically nothing. You won't touch me. You won't even initiate a kiss. Why?"
Oliver allowed his eyes to drop from hers.
"What?" Felicity asked more forcefully.
"I…" Oliver began to speak then stopped to swallow the knot that was working its way through his esophagus.
"Tell me," Felicity demanded, her grip tightening on his wrist. "What changed, Oliver? What is different since you first came back to us?"
He shook his head and looked back at her with a glaze of tears over his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you," he nearly mumbled.
"What?" Felicity's eyes squinted at him, trying to understand.
"Felicity," Oliver said her name on a breath and raised a hand to cup her cheek. "I want you so much that it hurts. I want…" he shut his eyes as though he was admitting something unforgiveable, "Every second that I'm with you I feel like I can't control myself." He huffed out a labored chuckle through his nose and shook his head. "I'm addicted to having you next to me," he blinked and rejoined his eyes to hers, "naked…next to me."
His breath quickened for a moment as he looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm afraid," he again closed his eyes and shook his head more strongly, "if I'm there when you wake up…I won't let you out of bed. I'm scared that I'll hurt you…"
Felicity licked her lips with eyes darkening at every word he said.
"Stop," she instructed him calmly with eyes locked onto his.
Oliver wasn't sure how to react to her look but he did as she said and stopped talking.
"Have you ever hurt me?"
Oliver thought about her question. Emotionally, yes, he had hurt her on any number of occasions. There were probably times he had also hurt her physically, but he could likely blame extenuating circumstances in any of those crime-fighting instances. Personally, intimately, he couldn't think of anything.
"Oliver," Felicity regained his attention when he was obviously putting too much thought into her question. "Your answer is 'no'. All the times that you and I have been together, all the times we have made love…even times when we both got a little out of control," she pressed her lips together in a knowing, slightly-embarrassed smile, "you have never even come close to hurting me. What is different now?"
He raised his hands to her face and held her cheeks as he looked down at her. "Only that I want to make up for lost time," he began.
Felicity grasped his wrists, turned her face into one of his palms and placed a lingering kiss there. "And you want to make it up all at once?"
Oliver nodded and offered a conciliatory, humble smile.
"Don't you know that's how I feel, too?" Felicity asked him, now rubbing his wrists and trying her best to convey her own feelings through her eyes and words. "Oliver, I…" she pulled his hand to her lips and began placing kisses on each of his fingertips. She licked the tip of his middle finger, blinked her eyes and gazed into his face. "I want you to make love to me."
Blood rushed from most of Oliver's body toward his groin. His eyes closed and his breath was shallow once again.
Felicity pressed her body against his and tiptoed, wanting his mouth to replace his fingertips against her lips. She stretched to begin the kiss she was craving. But before their lips touched she shared more of what she was expecting from her husband.
"I want you to go put on your Arrow disguise." She placed a quick, soft, tongue-to-lips kiss on his mouth. "Then I want you to meet me in the back room. I want you to take these clothes off of me and I'm going to undress you and we are going to make love until one of us passes out from…" she stopped only because she heard the words she was saying and saw and felt the affect her words were already having on Oliver.
"Are you sure?" Oliver's growling voice returned. Felicity's entire body tingled with anticipation.
And when their lips came together on his initiation, she was able to show him how sure she was in the kiss that nearly rivaled the one they had shared before making love for the very first time.
Oliver was adept at changing clothes quickly. Even when it came to changing into his Arrow ensemble which was complete with leather pants, chest panels and thin Kevlar sleeves.
He had become a little more sensitive to the leather pants portion of the wardrobe one evening when he was particularly torn between crime fighting and having Felicity in bed, already undressed.
In the post-William/pre-marital time when Felicity had a key to her boys' apartment, they tried their best to be discerning about the nights she spent in Oliver's bedroom. This night had held much promise with William spending the night at Auntie Thea's.
Until, of course, Dig had called both their cell phones.
Oliver groaned but immediately climbed out of bed.
Felicity groaned as well but her response was a whine. "Nooooo," she reached for Oliver, barely able to catch a finger in the waistband of his sweatpants that were serving as his nightclothes.
"He wouldn't buzz us both if it wasn't important," Oliver sighed.
"I'm going to kill him," Felicity had pulled the comforter over her chest and watched as Oliver pulled the duffle bag from under the bed.
Oliver carefully removed the sweatpants from his waist and sat on the corner of the bed with his back toward Felicity. Slowly he began pulling the leather pants over his feet. Felicity didn't move. She pulled the pillow from Oliver's side of the bed and propped her head up with it, watching him.
Oliver stood up and finished zipping and fastening the lower half of his disguise when he turned and looked at her.
"Felicity," he gently scolded her, hoping she would get out of bed.
Instead she relaxed further into the mattress, letting the covers begin to drift down her chest, uncovering part of her nakedness. "Oliver," she stared in the direction of his waist and bit her lip.
Before he could respond she quirked her index finger at him, beckoning him to her side of the bed. And, when he reluctantly obeyed her order, he stood still next to her, knowing pretty well why she remained in the bed, looking quite sexy.
"I have a new respect for your leather pants," she grinned.
With little hesitation she reached toward him and ran her fingers over his hardened length that was quite obvious under the tight fitting clothing.
Oliver sucked in a breath quickly and then let it out slowly along with her name. "Felissssity,"
He knew it was the wrong move but he looked down at her fingers, touching him, which made his erection even more pronounced.
Needless to say, Dig had to handle the hospital's stolen drugs with the help of the SCPD that evening. His only hint of why the power-couple didn't show up to aid the battle was a text from Felicity saying 'Otherwise Occupied'.
When Oliver joined Felicity in the makeshift bedroom of the lair he was fully dressed. However, the thoughts of how she looked in her leather outfit and how she wanted them both to get out of said outfits made his leather pants all the more tight.
She was pouring two glasses of wine on the stacked crate boxes beside the bed as he wandered toward her.
Felicity approached him, slowly, deliberately adding her own swagger. An easy smile formed on her face when she stopped and returned his once-over, her eyes going almost directly to his crotch and the length that stretched a considerable distance south, against his thigh.
Her hesitation ended there, with the admiration of his body. She took the few more steps to reach him, reached with her right hand to the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers. Felicity's tongue quickly parted his lips and pressed through to tangle with his. Her fingers wrapped into his short hair, gripping tightly pulling him as close to her as possible.
Oliver responded with his own hunger. His arms wrapped around her delicate waist and held her tightly. He couldn't help the involuntary movement when his hips began to press against her. And that resulted in his hands drifting south to pull her hips against him.
Felicity hummed at the feeling. This was the Oliver she wanted to experience every day. When his hands reached the bottom of her covered buttocks both their instincts took over. Oliver lifted her without one hint of restraint and gladly pressed himself toward her center when Felicity wrapped her legs around him.
"Is this what you want?" He whispered toward her ear as his lips found her jawbone and began a delicious nibbling sensation.
"Ye-ss," Felicity welcomed his every touch from lips against her skin to the sensation of leather against the wetness that was building underneath her clothing. "Don't…" her breath was heavy as she leaned into his mouth's actions, desperately trying to reattach her lips to his.
"Don't what?" Oliver found a way to ask as her tongue found his oral opening and demanded entry.
Felicity pulled back for just one moment, opened her eyes and looked into his. "Don't hold back. Don't stop," she breathed harshly.
They kissed again while Oliver found his way to the bed wanting to lay her down on it. He loved feeling Felicity's hands running through his hair, over his beard with her short fingernails scraping through the stubble and into his skin.
Felicity kept her legs around his waist when he lowered her onto the mattress and continued his slow pumping motions, building them both up for an explosion that each wanted.
"Wait," Felicity breathlessly stopped him. She ran her fingers over his face, loving the look of pleasured torture that adorned his features.
"What?" Oliver sighed with only a touch of frustration.
"Your mask," Felicity breathed.
"What?" Oliver's question was more short and more of a grumble.
"I want you to wear your mask," she told him with an added push from her pelvic muscles.
"God, Felicity," Oliver looked down into her face. He quickly realized her thoughts - the added thrill of making love to a masked hero… or in his case, heroine.
He found the eye covering by the wine glasses that had yet to be touched.
Oliver stepped away from her just long enough to fit the tight band around his head. He loved that she was biting her bottom lip in admiration, want and anticipation of him.
"I love you," his low, gruff voice preceded a forceful kiss and hands groping, massaging and teasing through the cool clothing that was starting to stick to both of their bodies.
As though their kissing, grinding and combined moans hadn't already reached a fevered pitch, Felicity wanted one more bit of attention from her husband.
"Oliver," she ran her index finger over the outline of his manhood as his mouth attached to the little bit of skin that he had uncovered at the base of her neck. One of his hands was braced against the mattress, holding up his body, while his other hand expertly spread his wife's thighs in order to cup and stroke her still-covered sensitivity.
"Mmm," he responded brusquely which was actually more of an acknowledgement than Felicity expected.
"Me first," she quickly spoke, followed by a groan and a "But don't make me…not with my clothes on," when she felt his fingers poking, prodding, and her hips moving involuntarily.
Oliver raised his masked face, hood covering his head just as Felicity's covered hers, and grinned with his devilish, boyish charm.
"Oh, I plan on you first…and second…and third…" he continued moving his fingers against the leather until Felicity was panting, open-mouthed, eyes closed with eyelashes fluttering against her optical covering.
"O-li-ver," she staggered with very little idea of what she really wanted to say, other than, "Leather…off…me…" She pressed an unsteady hand against his ample bicep.
Oliver watched her, unable to take his eyes off of her face, or to stop his hand from pleasing her. "No, Felicity, Baby, let go," he whispered. "So sexy," he pushed his fingers more purposefully against her heat and watched her chest, her leather-clad breasts, heaving erratically.
When he growled at the erotic sight Felicity reached her first peak, fully clothed, and let out an incoherent scream that neither expected. Her hips jerked then began a rhythmic roll that made Oliver's eyes nearly roll back into his head, imagining himself riding out that wave inside of her. Still he moved his fingers along with her body until she went completely limp and let out a somewhat vulgar sigh.
Oliver laughed at the profanity that escaped her lips.
He slowly straddled one of her thighs and pressed his length against her, almost ready to curse himself because he, too, was ready to explode. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he laughed quietly against her ear, "am I supposed to kiss that mouth now?"
"Damn it, Oliver," Felicity responded with eyes still closed and body too weak to fight him in any other way.
"What?" He laughed again as he tried to mimic her whispering whine.
"Too fast," she almost whimpered.
"I'm sorry?" he asked a little more seriously.
Felicity took a deep breath, let it out and somehow rolled herself over enough to face her husband as he ran a hand over her arm and fingers.
"We were supposed to get all worked up and then you were supposed to undress me and then I would undress you and…and…it was all planned out in my head…" she digressed into her babbling which made Oliver smile from ear to ear.
"You said you wanted to be first," Oliver grinned at her pouty face.
Finally her eyes flickered open and Felicity poked her bottom lip out further. "Well you were at least supposed to get my pants off before getting me…off," she crinkled her eyebrows as she realized what she was saying.
Oliver laughed again and then sucked in a breath as he realized that her words were hitting him below the belt, where things were already tight and ill-adjusted.
Felicity's eyes widened slightly. She licked her tongue over her top lip, grazing her teeth. "Your turn," she quickly dropped her hand to his hardness.
"No, God, Felicity," Oliver felt the ooze on his tip, "I need…"
Felicity watched his lips quiver as he tried to stay in control. "You're lucky," she moved both of her hands to his chest and pushed her husband enough to roll him onto his back. "I want our next round to be together," she declared.
Oliver was more than pleased when she raised herself up and folded her legs underneath her, sitting on them as she reached for the zipped closure on his chest. He had no trouble watching her as she began to undress him.
Her face softened as she methodically undid every closure that she encountered taking off his vest, the Kevlar sleeves, and finally had his upper body uncovered.
As she began to unfasten the leather pants, Felicity bent to kiss his lips. Her hair and hood fell over his cheeks, covering them both momentarily until Oliver reached up to push her hair away.
In that moment, both of them relived their night in Nanda Parbat which remained one of the most special times in their life. And as Oliver expressed to his wife a heartfelt "I love you," she reciprocated by removing the rest of his clothes and then easily lay back on the mattress for him to return the favor.
Oliver admired his wife. He questioned himself for letting the last two weeks pass without giving her the intimacy that both of them needed. Then, as he looked at her closed eyes, surrounded by that sexy, black, leather mask, her face contorting, expressing the pleasure she was experiencing from his expert touches. The soft moan from her lips gave him a third thought…an ever-so-slight pat on the back because his inattention had led Felicity to…to this.
"Mm-mm…mm…Oliver…sensitive…" her gentle whine brought his mind back to the moment at hand…and his actual hand which was instinctively massaging her breast, caressing and pinching her nipple – thus the 'sensitivity' she was mentioning.
"Sorry," he whispered before lowering his mouth to soothe the discomfort that his fingers had caused.
Felicity moaned quietly as his tongue lavished against her tender skin and now hyper-sensitive tip, puckered just the way her husband liked it.
"Is that better?" Oliver detached his lips and raised his head to see the content look on her face. He was quite pleased when she arched her back wanting more of his attention.
As he hovered over her, propped up on his elbow, Oliver smiled. His fingertips ghosted over her ear where the band of her mask was still holding it on her head, as was his. He watched the tip of his middle finger as he used it to outline her cheek bone, her jaw, down her neck and over her collarbone making Felicity shiver.
Her eyes fluttered open as he continued watching his own movements, enjoying the feathery touch of his hand running over her bare sternum, to her belly button and then over to her side, gently holding her hip and letting his thumb outline the amazingly smooth skin on her pelvis.
Felicity reached up in the quietness and placed a hand on his cheek. She admired him as well but knew there was still something on his mind. They had yet to fully make love and although Oliver's wife was a patient woman, she had come down from that first high and was ready to go back again.
"Are you about finished savoring your moment?" She rolled toward him happily accepting his hip hand sliding to her behind.
"Hmmm?" Oliver moved his glazed eyes to meet hers.
"You're not going to hurt me," Felicity ran her fingers through his beard, over his chin and pressed her thumb against his lips.
Oliver kissed her thumbprint and teased it with his tongue before smiling at her. "It's not that, now," he admitted.
Felicity rolled her eyes. "Then what is stopping you from making love to me?"
Oliver shook his head, his eyes screaming 'I'm going to attack you any moment now,' while the look on his face was that of a teenage boy curiously intrigued by a naked woman.
"How…how long…" Oliver finally blinked and swallowed the bit of dryness from his throat. "Felicity, you look…" he drew in a long breath and let his eyes wander over her body then back to her eyes. "God you are so sexy," he licked his lips and blew out a quick breath. "How long have you had your disguise? Why haven't you worn it before? How long have you been planning…this?" He pursed his lips together to try and curb his shallow breathing as he asked her the innocuous yet thought-provoking questions.
Felicity laughed once. She looked into his masked eyes and let out one simple, amused, chuckle.
"We're laying here completely naked. You just made me…orgasm…with my clothes on and then we undressed each other. You are still," she reached gingerly toward his waist and cupped a portion of his length with her palm, "hard as a rock and yet you want me to tell you why I've just pulled my costume out of the closet?"
She shook her head as Oliver's eyes rolled slightly backwards. "I'll make you a deal Mr. Queen…" she began stroking him, eliciting the groan of pleasure that she wanted to continue. "You make love to me until neither of us can move and then I'll tell you the whole story behind my leather fetish."
Oliver dipped his head toward her lips as he used his body to gently roll his wife onto her back. He continued holding himself up to keep his full weight off her smaller body. But he easily nestled himself between her legs, finally letting his hardness find its home against her wet heat.
He kissed her passionately for several moments before her words sank further into his mind and body.
He pulled his face away from hers just as her hips began their own movement, trying to pull him inside of her. Their masked eyes met with Oliver grinning widely.
"I'm going to kill you…you realize that, right?" Felicity warned with the pulsing feeling in her core.
"You have a leather fetish?" his grin matched the mischievous twitching of his nose and the shifting eyebrows.
"Oliver!" Felicity grasped his biceps and manipulated her own body until his tip slid into her entrance.
"Mmmm, yesss," she continued moving until her husband gave in and adjusted their bodies to give her what she fully desired.
Felicity was aroused even more as she felt his intensity build. As he pressed further and further into her, his strong hips thrust and circled. She gripped his broad shoulders, urged him on with her moans and a few expletives that amazingly spurred his abilities.
Oliver felt his tension growing, the feel of her tightness surrounding every taut inch of him, her guttural reactions to the pleasure he was providing his wife making him determined to hold on until she fell over that edge again.
So when her mouth formed incomprehensible words and her hips lifted off the bed to take him in more deeply he knew it was only a matter of moments before they could explode together.
"Oli…Oliver now…now!" her body jerked sporadically making Oliver push completely into her and reach his release along with her. He put a hand under her buttocks, holding her off the bed while he remained buried as deeply inside her body as he ever imagined he could be.
It was the animalistic moment that he had feared and yet it had turned into one of the most treasured. It was the moment he had desired and yet had truly been terrified of sharing with her – until this very moment - his most precious love, his Felicity.
Oliver took a split second to actually view their bodily connection. And just like the moment he had removed her glasses, before the first time they made love, he knew the intimacy of this moment far outweighed the sex.
He gently rested her after-shocking body back on the mattress but didn't dare pull himself from her. He wanted to keep that coupled feeling for as long as she would allow him.
When Felicity's body stopped its sated spasms, one of Oliver's elbows buckled beneath him, bringing his still-attached body partially collapsing onto hers.
"I – I'm…" he attempted to apologize.
"Don't," Felicity breathlessly laughed. She pressed a kiss against his forehead which was all she could reach when he finally gave up and let his body rest on top of hers.
While she couldn't get a good breath, Felicity smiled from ear to ear, completely enjoying the feeling of having her husband, finally, fully back in her arms and life.
"I love you," she whispered toward his ear.
"Love you, too," Oliver mumbled.
"Are you going to sleep on me?" Felicity squirmed slightly as his now-reducing manhood was becoming a bit of an uncomfortable intrusion.
"Mmm?" Oliver couldn't even comprehend what she was asking. He was finally comfortable again, with his wife, with his life.
"Oliver," Felicity whispered, "If you want to sleep, that's fine, I will hold you forever," she smiled at that thought. "But I can't breathe…"
"Mmm-hmmm," Oliver still didn't move.
"I'm taking off my mask," she tried the only other thing she could think of in that moment and was slightly amused when she felt a twitch from that uncomfortable intrusion, seemingly trying to come back to life already.
"No, don't," Oliver mumbled again.
"Sorry Sweetheart," Felicity ran a hand through his hair. "I need you to move. I can't breathe."
Oliver grunted, but in the next breath he used every ounce of his spent energy to withdraw himself from his wife and slide all of his lower body off of hers.
Felicity took in a long, cleansing breath and was more than happy to have one of his strong arms draped across her waist as his head rested on her shoulder.
This was her Oliver. This was the man she had fought for and the one who had fought for her countless times before. There was nowhere she would rather be and she was quite sure he matched her sentiment.
As she ran her fingertips through his hair and maintained a constant touch with his recuperating body, thoughts of their lovemaking continued playing happily in her mind.
The only thing that broke her away from it, even for a moment, was another groggy comment from Oliver.
"So," his voice reverberated against the skin just above her breast, "about this leather fetish…"
Scenarios: Leather