AN: SO… This little smutty piece has been running around in my mind for quite a bit. It is Mellitz yes, so read at your own risk.
Ms.E1928 the wait is over, lol! This is the one where they christen that lovely desk in The Oval. Some good ol' PWP.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Scandal. I don't own its characters. This is not canon. Oh yes smut like I said before.
Fitz feels his most Presidential and powerful when he's sitting at his desk in the Oval. There's just something about the place that makes him feel like he can do anything. He did not think it was possible for him to feel any more powerful.
He was wrong.
His wife walks into the Oval, a force of nature in her fury. He's so used to her temper that the red dress that's hugging her curves so temptingly is the only thing that draws his attention.
He may hate his wife but he is by no means a blind man. She is a deliciously attractive woman. This particular dress plays to all her strengths; hugging her waist, moulding to her chest and generally reminding him of his favourite things about her body.
"Did you hear a word I said?" Mellie inquires as she looks disbelievingly at him, his eyes having taken on a glazed over shine to them.
He's been looking at his wife from his chair; legs crossed as his thumb and index finger frame his face, elbow resting on his leg. It's a pose she's seen one time too many and it usually reeks of disdain… today however she can't quite tell.
"Yeah I did," he tosses out as his lips curl in a careless gesture. His eyes remain laser focused on her though. She raises an eyebrow and places her hands on the desk, leaning forward to better judge if he's being truthful. What she sees she does not believe and quickly backs away from the desk.
Fitz rises from his chair holding on to the edge of his desk as he rounds it. His eyes remain on her and she is rooted to the spot. The closer he gets the less she can deny the desire she sees in his gaze.
It's a look she's familiar with, though she may not have seen it in a while - understatement of the year – she definitely remembers it. There is no way she can forget the almost predatory concentration with which he focuses it, the warmth that always spreads in her belly when he fixes it upon her.
Unconsciously she takes a step back as he closes the distance between them. She's embarrassed by the squeal she lets out when he reaches for her and pulls her to him roughly. Her arms are trapped between them as his arms around her waist secure her against him.
He finally breaks eye contact and dips his head to speak close to her ear. "So what were you saying?" he asks and she can feel his smirk where his lips brush against her cheek.
She takes deep breaths to try and calm herself but only succeeds in pressing herself more tightly against him as her chest heaves. He draws back to look at her, the same smirk gracing his face, as his hands move lower to cup one of his all-time favourite places, her ass.
When she feels just how sincere he is about his advances, something in Mellie clicks or maybe snaps. "Nothing," she growls in reply turning her palms flat against his chest and pushing him back until he's sitting in his chair again.
She leans against the desk and lifts one heel clad foot against his chest with a twinkle in her eye. Fitz is more than happy to oblige kissing up the offered leg. Her dress rises the higher he kisses while he spreads her legs, making room for himself to work.
So Fitz was wrong. He felt even more powerful at his desk in the Oval when he got his wife off with just his mouth and she struggled to contain her cries of ecstasy. He simply stared at her; her chest heaving, head thrown back as one hand supported her laid flat on the desk while the other was at her throat.
"Get up here," she said as she reached down for him once she got herself under control again. He did not need to be told twice and was up and on her in record time.
Their first kiss was infused with the taste of her and he thought he just might come right there and then, the two different but just as intoxicating tastes of her mixing to form a heady flavour he loved. In that moment he wondered briefly what madness had ever prompted him to reject his wife all the times she had more than willingly offered herself to him.
He grasped her thighs bringing them up around his hips as he tucked himself snugly against her. He began to run his hands up and down the smooth skin of her thighs as he deepened the kiss. Her hands grasped his face, cradling it and holding him in place.
When it became clear he was completely lost in the kiss Mellie said, "You know… Fitz… we don't… have… a lot… of… time," in between kisses. He opened his eyes and looked at her, the expression in them causing a deep pain to sear in her chest - bright and hot – and gone in an instant. She had to have imagined it.
"I didn't lock the door," she continued, "and it's the middle of the day." She slipped her hands beneath his jacket as she said this, moving on to his tie and shirt buttons, desperately needing to feel skin.
Fitz let go of her legs to rid himself of his jacket. He drew her panties down her legs and returned his hands to her thighs as he pulled her to the very edge of the desk. He kissed down her neck needing to taste as much of her as possible.
He sought out the zip of her dress and rolled it down a bit, just enough to grant him a little access to her breasts. He was conscious of their state of undress, not wanting her to be too exposed if they were rudely interrupted but also unwilling to actually leave her long enough to lock the door.
This was a delicate situation and his absence might break the spell. He was honest enough to admit to himself that he did want this; not as some tactic, as a strategic move in this 'war' but in the way that a man wants a woman; and he would not jeopardise it.
Mellie finally succeeded in opening his shirt and let it hang open not attempting to push it off his shoulders as her hands roamed his chest and stomach. It never failed to amaze her just how much in shape her husband was.
She was amazed but also deeply appreciative. She sought to convey that in the almost reverent though hurried touches.
She reached down and cupped him through his pants, sneaking a look at his face through her lashes. She was taken aback by his slightly open mouth and closed eyes.
The reality of his desire was still making itself known to her and she hadn't fully accepted it. Maybe she never would. He had assured her for so long and so thoroughly of his lack of attraction, want or desire for her that she still couldn't quite believe it; but she wouldn't question it.
Mellie was half convinced this was a dream but she refused to pinch herself. If it was a dream she was going to see it as far through as possible. It was too good not to.
She quickly freed him and he wasted no time plunging in to her. His hands on her ass tightened as she adjusted to him. Her head tilted back as she bit into her lower lip, a sigh escaping her at them finally, finally joining.
When she pressed into the small of his back he began to move. He quickly sealed her lips in a kiss as her moans filled the room with the fast pace he set. Her arms wrapped around his neck bringing their chests together with a delicious friction; but it just wasn't enough.
His hands moved to her shoulders so he could lower the front of her dress. He revelled in the feeling of her hardened peaks through the lace of her bra as they undulated together, chasing their peaks with marvellous abandon.
"I…," she began. "I… I need," she tried again unsuccessfully.
"Tell me what you need," he said as he slowed his pace, his lips hovering over hers as their breaths mingled.
"More," she finally got out, "I need more." He knew exactly how to give her what she needed. He lifted her off the table and quickly turned her around pressing back into her.
She hissed at the change as he drove in deeper than before, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. One hand sought out her clit pinching and rubbing in the way he knew gave her the most pleasure as the other cupped one lace covered breast. He bit down on her shoulder then licked to soothe the area.
"Yes Fitz, yes!" she cried as the sensations washed over her. She was getting much closer he could tell. He would hold off for as long as it took for her to fall for the second time.
She reached a hand behind and sunk her nails into his thigh after a particularly rough thrust and he found himself drawing dangerously close to the edge.
In what seemed like another world he heard the sounds of what seemed like an argument but paid it no mind choosing to focus on his wife. That was a grave mistake.
At that moment the door opened revealing a put out Cyrus finishing the tail end of an argument with Lauren. "I told you there wouldn't…" he trailed off, be a problem he finished in his mind. He quickly closed the door, his expression morphing into one of shock and then amusement as he walked away.
He tossed a "so maybe you were right," to a horrified Lauren as he left.
"Fitz damn it, he saw us!" Mellie was almost shrieking as she hurriedly straightened up. The flush on her face and creeping down her chest had more to do with embarrassment and a rising annoyance than with their activities.
She was growing annoyed on two counts; the first being that Fitz was smiling like the cat that got the canary and did not seem to be concerned by Cyrus' walking in on them in the throes of wild sex.
Secondly, she was literally the cat that didn't get the canary. Cyrus' interruption had ended their rendezvous and she had been oh so close. Her mortification however far outweighed her desire to finish what they had stared in the same venue.
So in her mind she was thinking of very elaborate ways to make Cyrus suffer for the compromising situation he had left her in. Fitz continued to eye her with amusement knowing almost telepathically what she was thinking.
He was definitely going to continue this later. He needed to hear her scream his name. She had held back quite understandably given their location but she would not tonight. Not when he got her properly alone and there could be no interruptions.
He suppressed the involuntary growl that crept up at the thought of how many ways he could get her to scream for him. He wanted her gloriously naked, flushed, dishevelled and boneless for him. He wanted to taste every inch of skin and re-learn all her most sensitive places.
He looked at her face, taking in the hair at the sides of her face that was slightly damp and plastered to her skin. "We will continue this tonight," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He had stepped closer to her tilting her face up with a single finger below her chin.
Only when she nodded her understanding did he let her go. He walked with her to the door, just slightly behind her. He reached forward grasping the handle just before she did to plant one last searing kiss that held the promise of things to come and then opened the door for her.
Just as she stepped forward he gave her ass a gentle squeeze and she quickly swatted his hand away. She turned to glare at him, the look in her eyes both a warning and an invitation… for later.
Later was going to be fun he thought to himself as she walked away.