WANNA GET OUT OF HERE? – Olitz Fake Relationship AU. A/N: I had no intention of continuing this prompt but I'm on vacation and this headcanon came to me out of nowhere and I had to write it down before I lost the picture in my head. I might revisit this 'verse again, because I like this Olitz. :-D
They lay naked and breathless sprawled across her bed and he feels like he had the life fucked right out of him when he rolls his head on the pillow to stare at her.
The moonlight flickered in through silky white curtains and cast silver shadows over her glossy brown skin. Dark brown nipples puckered tight and glistened after a long night of thorough worship from his greedy mouth and hands.
The arm flung back over her face obscured her big brown eyes from his inquisitive gaze but he could tell by the steady rise and fall of those glorious breasts that she wasn't sleeping, only thinking.
They'd just spent the last three hours fucking one another into oblivion and he really hoped that she wasn't regretting it. He'd loved her for what felt like forever and finally having her – thoroughly, more than once – was truly a dream come true. She was the best he'd ever had and he'd never struggled for female companionship before (well, except for hers – until tonight).
Fitz rolled himself over with a groan,; his sweat-slicked skin slowly peeling off of wrinkled 800-thread count sheets, muscles aching with the reminder of just how thoroughly they'd destroyed one another.
Liv remained motionless beside him, continuing to hide under the safety of her forearm, even when he turned on his side to face her.
He was patient and content with the freedom to simply study her so openly. Which he did – from the tip of her head, thick hair wild and messy; over her flawless (but unfortunately obscured) face; down that long neck to the perky dark chocolate-colored tips of her breasts. The flat slope of her belly gave way to the smooth, damp delta between her thighs, his cock twitching with the memory of how tight her wet quim had felt around it. His mouth watered as he perused the long toned legs that had just been wrapped high and tight about his torso and he smirked at the bright red tips of toes he know had curled in ecstasy more than once since they'd walked through her door.
Fuck, she was gorgeous.
Perfect – as if sculpted by angels, or some other embarrassingly trite cliché that couldn't possibly ever do her perfection justice. He was often struck dumb by the magnitude of her intelligence and beauty and even now was astonished at his ability to even form coherent thoughts after the backbreaking orgasm he'd just had.
He loved her, thoroughly and completely, and just moments after he'd finished finally having her, he was desperate for her all over again.
Her arm suddenly slid free of her face and those doe eyes were set on his.
His heart began to race and while he was embarrassed by how anxious he was for her to speak, he needed to know what she was thinking.
"I didn't really need you to be my fake boyfriend," she whispered with a voice hoarse from what he hoped were all the times she'd cried his name.
That had not at all been what he'd been expecting. "Come again?"
She smirked and he rolled his eyes over his choice of words – unintentional for sure, but a Freudian slip nonetheless because he was quite hopeful that they would both be coming again very soon.
"Edison. I've run into him a lot over the last few months and it's been no problem. So I didn't need you to pretend to be my boyfriend this time, I just..."
"So why did you ask me to?"
She gave him a pointed look. "Come on," she said, as it if were obvious. "You know why."
He was beginning to have an idea but he wanted her to say it. After he'd been pining for her for years, he wasn't going to let her get away with a passive aggressive confession that she'd felt the same all along. He'd been going through hell all this time – and all for no reason. He wanted to torture her as she'd been torturing him – at least just a little bit. For his ego's sake, he needed her to spell it out. "So tell me."
She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically as she stretched like a cat; tits jiggling so enticingly he could barely resist the urge to slurp one into his mouth until she made those little mewling sounds that drove him crazy. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"
"Have we ever made things easy for one another, Livvie? Why start now?" The knowledge that she felt the same way – and the memory of how her body had responded so readily to his – gave him even more courage and confidence than he'd ever known himself capable of.
"I didn't know how else to ask you out."
Fitz had to bite back a grin. Olivia Pope – the brave, ball-busting dynamo who had captivated him since law school; the confident, tough-as-nails third year associate who could make most senior partners cry with just one withering glance – had been scared to ask him out. He was certain that he'd ever been this happy. "So you decided we should pretend to date instead?"
She smiled sheepishly. "A completely uncharacteristic cliché, I know."
"You could have just asked me out on a real date, Liv."
"Yeah, well, I know that now, after you kissed me – but I didn't then."
They stared silently at one another from either side of the same pillow and Fitz longed for her so much he physically ached from head to cock to toe.
"So what happens now?" He asked for lack – or fear – of saying anything else. He knew Liv well enough to know that it was best to let her set the pace.
She cast a pointed glance down at the rather dire situation between his thighs. "Well, first I need you to fuck me again with that big delicious thing right there … and then in the morning – maybe take me out for breakfast?"
Rolling on top of her, Fitz dragged his pulsating cock through her slick folds, teasing her clit with the tip of his swollen flesh until she was shaking and writing beneath him. He felt giddy with lust and excitement when he finally sank his throbbing length deep inside her and she crossed her ankles around his waist, rocking up into him as she began to ride him from below.
Several long moments of uncoordinated, incoherent rutting followed before he was capable of reply, murmuring into the sweet tasting mouth that opened to accept his tongue, "It's a date."