I'll Never Get Over You
"You're awfully quiet," Fitz glanced at Olivia who lay barely covered beside him.
"Still trying to convince myself this is real," she cuddled closer, offering him a small smile.
The clock next to the bed told him they should have been asleep hours ago but he feared she'd disappear if he dared close his eyes. Laying naked next to Olivia was something he thought he'd only ever do again in his fantasies and now there was no need to rush, they had hours, days. No one had to sneak out in the wee hours of the morning and she was in his house.
"So," he smirked turning on his side and propping himself up on his elbow, "do you like my bedroom?"
"Well I've become well acquainted with the bed," she kissed his lips, lingering to allow their tongues to leisurely mingle.
"The most important feature of the room to be sure," he muttered as her mouth retreated from his.
Olivia's fingers toyed with the curls he'd let grow at the nape of his neck. He rarely allowed his hair to get so long, instead keeping his unruly curls clipped short. She watched his eyelids sag when she ran her nails along his scalp a little harder and a low groan rumbled in his chest. Knowing all too well the meaning of that sound she reached her mouth to his ear pulling the lobe between her lips.
"Livvie," he growled.
"I missed you," she admitted when his now open eyes fixed on hers.
His fingers traced the slope of her cheekbone, pushing away the stray hair that had fallen there. He tried to count the number of times he'd prayed she would say those words, and only in his wildest dreams did she ever utter them while in his bed. He cleared his throat, admitting, "I missed you too."
Olivia had wondered if they'd done irreparable harm, the arguments, her relationships with Edison, Jake and Russell, his alliance with Mellie. She feared they'd never be able to find their way back even if circumstances aligned as they had earlier in the evening.
"I'll have to remember to give Charlotte some extra time off," he chuckled, allowing his hand to ghost along her bare arm. She shivered beneath his touch, goosebumps pricking in the wake of his hand. They had spent hours reminding themselves what they'd forgone for so long but his hands on her lit her aflame just as when he had first touched her.
Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently when he began a trail of open mouth kisses along the column of her neck. It was unlike any other time she could recall when they were together. No one was wondering where they were, no one was expecting them home, no one was going to interrupt their indulgence in one another.
"Charlotte might deserve a raise," she smiled, tugging harder at his curls.
"If I have her to thank for this," he agreed, lifting the sheet to survey her bare body beneath, "I'd be more than happy to double her salary."
"Behave," she blushed, pulling the sheet down to cover herself.
He pulled her against him, her face mere inches from his on the pillow. She laced the fingers of her left hand with those of his right, savoring the simple connection. They lay so close, so exposed, nothing but a year of questions separating them. Her chestnut brown eyes searched the depths of his forceful slate gray for a hint of his thoughts. His eyes always smiled when he was close to her, always sparkled when they settled on her but there was a different gleam this time.
They looked at one another, considering what to say, sifting through their thoughts. He watched the strand of hair laying across her forehead wafting in the breeze coming from the balcony. She studied his tongue as it slid over his lips. Their breathing, the rise and fall of their chests, coordinated in an expectant rhythm. She began to speak but thought better of her question. He resisted the urge to ease the tension by pulling her beneath him and urging his mouth against hers.
Olivia glanced over Fitz's shoulder, a picture of the two of them from his first campaign taunting her from the nightstand. Even then she'd known there would be no one else, no one who could hold her every thought and dream. She would never see such unsullied affection reflected back at her. There was no amount of pain that wasn't warranted, no measure of struggle too much. Normal and simple were for the faint of the heart, she wanted the soul-shaking, life-altering, remarkable love she knew would only be possible with Fitz.
Fitz sensed Olivia slipping deeper into her thoughts. Rubbing his thumb along hers, he drew her hand to his lips for a chaste kiss, "Livvie…"
She smiled, tears brimming in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he continued.
She looked puzzled, "What are you sorry about?"
He broke their eye contact, reeling from the emotions invoked by memories of their past and the last twelve months in particular. He wanted to ask why she'd left with Jake, tell her how hurt he was that she'd left him all alone, swear he'd go to war a million times over to save her, assure her he'd lay down his life for her.
"I'm sorry I didn't divorce Mellie sooner," he still didn't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry I ever let you feel like less than the most important person in my life. I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for us. I'm sorry I hurt you."
Tears slipped silently down his stubbly cheeks, disappearing in the silent darkness.
"No," she mouthed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I got angry. I'm sorry I pushed you away."
Her own tears fell freely, mixing with his when she gingerly pressed a healing kiss to his lips.
"I just want you to be happy," Fitz wept, "I want you to smile. I want to see the strong, brilliant, carefree Livvie I met seven years ago."
"You make me happy," she sobbed in return, her thumb wiping the tears from his warm cheeks. "I'm never happier than when I'm with you."
"I can't promise you that I'll never hurt you but I promise to do everything in my power to keep that from happening," his eyes smoldered with a seriousness she rarely saw. "If anything, the last year has taught me one thing, it's taught me that I can live without you," she gasped at his admission and he hurried to continue, "but I don't want to."
Olivia kissed him again, needing a reprieve from both his admission and the emotions it invoked. Though his tears had stopped, hers fell unbidden. She cried for the pain of the past seven years, all of the times she watched Fitz go back to Mellie, all of the times she sent him away, the fear that he'd walk away forever, and the helplessness she felt without his love. After the torment of her childhood Olivia swore she'd never depend on anyone, never place her happiness in another's hands. All of that changed when she met Fitz, the first eye contact, the first time he smiled at her, when they shared one minute in the hallway and their fingers first tangled on the campaign bus. She recalled the struggle standing outside her hotel room in Georgia, when he'd told her to go into her room, when he'd given her an out. Since that night nothing had been the same but, she realized, she wouldn't change the decision she made in that hallway for anything.
"I can exist without you," she hiccupped, taking his face between her hands, "but I'm not truly alive unless I'm with you."
The gentle touch of his palm against her lower back was a stark contrast to the demanding pressure of his mouth on hers. Her lips were salty and sweet, a mingling of wine and tears. He kissed her as reassurance, to show her how it felt to be alive, and for all of the words he couldn't express.
"Make love to me Fitz," she whimpered, vulnerable, exposed.
He gently shifted beneath the sheet until he lay above her. Every movement tender and deliberate, he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, tracing her lips with a lone digit.
"Say it again," he choked, his voice heavy with passion.
"Make love to me Mr. President," she purred, grinning.
Mustering all of his self-control, Fitz brought the head of his cock to her dripping entrance, coaxing just the tip into her waiting heat. Olivia gripped his biceps as he pushed inch after agonizing inch into her. He paused when he was fully inside her, the snug fit causing his pulse to quicken. He wondered if he'd ever grow accustomed to leisurely lovemaking with Olivia, if he would ever miss their hurried stolen moments. But he thought better of the notion, confident there would be rendezvous in the Oval Office, Camp David, and most assuredly in the motorcade. His pace quickened at the prospect and he drew himself back to the present, focused on the long, slow, gentle pleasure he was determined to offer the woman he loved.
Olivia felt tears prick her eyes anew, overcome by her feelings and the care with which Fitz worshipped her. His hands, strong yet gentle on her breasts as he moved in and out of her, his lips acquiescing to hers, his entire being at her mercy. She doubted anyone had ever seen this side of Fitz, not the President of the United States, no longer the most powerful man in the world, without defenses, loving and being loved in its purest form.
"Livvie," her name like a prayer from his lips.
"Yes," her back arching, head thrown back, when he found the spot that drove her mad.
Her exposed neck invited his mouth to venture along its contours. Beginning just below her ear he nipped and kissed until he reached the ridge of her clavicle, the hollow of her throat, where he suckled gently. Every kiss, every nip in time with his quickening thrusts. His hands traversed her thigh, gripping tightly, anchoring him to the reality of the perfect love they'd found.
She shifted her hands from his powerful back to the thigh that pressed against hers, finally finding their preferred place, tugging at the curls at his nape. Each stroke drove her higher, each kiss a promise that he'd tumble over the edge with her, and she rotated her hips to make the most of their connection. Her orgasm began as a flicker in the pit of her stomach, barely an ember, stoked by the force of their appetite for one another.
"Faster," it was a mere breath but he gladly accommodated her.
Her breaths quickened with each surge of his hips betraying how close she was to her climax. He concentrated on her breaths and the rosy glow blooming over her impeccable flesh. Plunging deeper, careful not to lose himself in his desire for her, he heard her moans grow louder.
"Don't stop," Olivia cried. "Oh God Fitz, don't ever stop." She gripped his curls with white knuckles, silken walls quaking around his cock. Seconds later her hold loosened and her nails dragged along the planes of his back luring him towards ecstasy.
His strokes became shorter, a sharp staccato against her sensitive tissues. With every surge her name dripped from his lips until his orgasm ripped a moan of her name from deep within him.
"I love you," Olivia whispered against his shoulder.
Fitz shifted to his side, giving him space to look at her, to really see her face when he responded, "I have dreamed about hearing those words from you for so long."
"Let me say it again then," she touched her finger to his lips, "I love you Fitz."
"I love you too Livvie."
"I love your arms," her palm ghosted over his bicep. "I love your lips," she kissed him softly. "I love your ears," her tongue ran along the shell of his ear, "and God I hope our kids have your sexy curls."
Fitz pulled back, eyes wide, "You want to have babies with me?"
Olivia giggled, "I thought that was our deal. Two babies, if I recall. We sealed the deal with a kiss." With that she kissed him again, "and you wouldn't go back on a deal would you Mr. President?"
"I just…I figured…" he stammered.
"Unless you changed your mind?" she enjoyed putting him on the spot.
"No, God no," he assured. "There is nothing more wonderful I can imagine than you carrying my child."
Her eyes were damp and so were his as silence again fell over them. Their legs intertwined, hands dancing together. They exchanged timid smiles, both still fearful of doing or saying something that would again cause their relationship to crumble.
Deep in thought, Olivia rose, pulling the sheet around her and padding to the window. The first hues of dawn glowed behind the Jefferson Memorial as she looked out over the South Lawn.
"Should I be concerned that you seem more interested in Mr. Jefferson than you are in me?" Fitz asked as he strode up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and kissing her neck.
Olivia laughed, a rush of pleasure washing over her when she felt him rock hard against her back. "Did you know that the architect of the Jefferson Memorial was named Pope?" she asked.
"I did," he kissed her neck again, enjoying the weight of her as she relaxed back against him.
"He died before construction even started," she went on. "The final design wasn't even completely his."
"Now that I didn't know," Fitz smiled, focusing on the former president's monument in the distance.
Olivia turned in his arms, "You really should brush up on your history, Mr. President," she flirted, her hands braced on his chest.
"Suddenly I don't care a thing about the past," he looked up towards the high ceiling then back into her eyes. "I only want to think about the future."
"Anything in particular about the future?" her voice was sultry, lust-laden.
"Hmm…" he feigned deep thought as she pulled him back in the direction of the mussed bed.
"While you're thinking let me give you a glimpse of your future," a slight nudge and his back was on the mattress, Olivia settling above him.
"And a bright future it is," he smiled as his cock disappeared into her heat anew.