The word "hate" had never been a part of Felicity's vocabulary, not even when discussing her, albeit, irrational fear of kangaroos or her gross dislike of anything Windows XP related. However, just the mere mention of Queen Consolidated's co-CEO, Isabel Rochev, sent the otherwise level headed, young professional into a tail spin of dark thoughts and overall moodiness.
She tried not to let Isabel hold that kind of power over her, masking her distaste for the Russian burying herself in her work whenever Isabel was around, but it seemed as though the woman's sole purpose on this planet was to get under Felicity's skin.
Normally she would shrug Isabel curt words and pinched glares with a faux smile and an overly forced smile of her own, but with the growing tension between her and Oliver, Felicity was a little more on edge than she was used to.
This whole experience was to show Oliver that she didn't need him physically, but Felicity was beginning to see that her relationship with Oliver was far more than just the physical.
It had been over two weeks since they'd had a decent conversation between the two of them that wasn't Arrow related and that was really messing with her mind. They were constantly on guard with one another, Oliver as the ever-persistent predator and Felicity the reluctant prey.
In truth, she just missed the closeness with Oliver. Yes, the sex was great, but she missed so much more than that. She missed being around him, totally relaxing in his presence, feeling his strong, protective arms wrap around her middle from the back as they stood in silence. It had always been so easy for them, to just be together, no expectation of carrying on a conversation, filling the void with small talk, they were comfortable around each other to just say nothing, and sometimes, that said the most.
In retrospect, Felicity knew that this forced separation was also affecting Oliver. His attempts to prove her physical need for her were becoming less frequent, and in truth, less intense than the previous one. It almost made her worry that he was giving up and that made her stomach fall. This should be what she wanted, for him to give up and therefor acknowledge that she had been right all along, but instead all Felicity could see was that they were growing farther and farther apart. What had she done?
Glancing from her desk, Felicity took in the scene coming from the office to her left. Her eyes immediately fell on the handsome form of Oliver Queen. He wore his patented grey work suit with a white shirt underneath. He had chosen his light blue tie today, which was one of Felicity's favorites because of the way it matched his eyes, and she secretly wished that he had known this and chose it just the same.
When she let her eyes rest on his face, she briefly took a minute to appreciate his strong jaw, coated with a scruff of dark blonde hair that her fingers itched to run through. She could feel her finger tips tingling while they rested on the keyboard.
Moving her eyes to his mouth she saw the faintest of smiles tugging at his cheeks and she felt something pull at her heart. She missed that smile so much it hurt. She hadn't seen it in a while and it was like she was starving for it. She would do anything to see him smile again…well, almost anything, she couldn't shake her stubbornness quite yet.
Leveling her eyes with his, her brows furrowed when she realized his smile did not reach his eyes and something in her wanted to reach out to him, to make it all better, but when she followed his line of vision, she immediately felt herself close off.
Isabel Rochev was standing in front of his desk, too close in Felicity's opinion, and whatever she was saying was causing Oliver to give her his best Oliver Queen patented smile and charm, which made Felicity's spine straighten and her hands curl against the keyboard. When had Isabel even made her way into Oliver's office? She hadn't heard her typical loud heel clacking against the tile floor and even though Felicity knew she would occasionally get distracted in her work, she was never that distracted. (Well, unless there was a salmon ladder present.)
Felicity let her eyes narrow against the obviously leggy-model bodice of one Isabel Rochev. She sported a pencil skirt, a black and white button down blouse and high black heeled pumps. She was leaning over Oliver's desk, clearly showing more of herself than was professionally needed and that made Felicity's blood boil, nearly causing her to shoot out of her seat right then to throw down with the evil-Russian Barbie, her job be damned. That was her man in there.
She felt eyes on her and she didn't even have to think to know who's it was and so she just let her eyes tick away from the woman's figure and settle to her left where two blue eyes looked back at her. She just stared back at him, hoping that he was receiving the message in her eyes to get rid of the woman in front of him or else she would, but all Oliver did was almost imperceptively shake is head no. However, he might as well have yelled it across his office because it was received loud and clear.
Felicity swiveled in her chair, letting her hands fly over the keys trying to bury herself in the hundreds of emails waiting for replies, hoping that her faux aloofness to the situation in the office next to her wasn't affecting her like it was. That's when she felt another pair of eyes on her and by the way it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, she knew they were the cold, calculating eyes of Ms. Rochev. Still, Felicity kept her eyes forward, concentrating on sifting through the email content before her, prioritizing them in the order in which she would reply, because that's apparently what a good, little secretary would do.
Some seconds or minutes past, Felicity really didn't know, when she heard the muffled sound of clicking making its way towards the door that separated her desk area from Oliver's office. She knew Isabel was going to exit the office and silently prepared herself for their encounter. She knew it was coming. If anything, Isabel was consistent and therefor predictable. She never missed an opportunity to glare at Felicity or make a comment about inner office relationships between employer and employee.
Silently, Felicity wished that Dig was at his usual guarding post outside of Oliver's office as she watched Isabel reach the door out of the corner of her eye. He was always there to give her a reassuring smile, indicating that if the need be, he'd help her bury the body where no one else would find it. Ever.
However, her partner in crime was currently in the security office explaining to the officers the changes she herself had put into place just yesterday morning. So, here she was, alone, ready to face whatever Isabel through at her. But if she were to react hastily, unprofessionally, or dare she say it, fatally, could anyone really blame her. She was having a hell of a month and to be honest, she didn't blame anyone else but herself. She knew that her brain to mouth filter had gotten her in tight pickles before, but this one took the cake and she loved her Oliver flavored cake.
Okay, that was cheesy. We're going to end that train of thought in 3…2…1…
Felicity was able to clear her mind and remove any traces of emotion from her face, replacing it with a mask of professionalism complete with a small smile as Isabel crossed the threshold after saying her goodbyes and turning to walk over to Felicity's desk.
When Isabel came to a stop just before her desk, Felicity waited for the verbal jousting to begin, but Isabel just stood there glowering down her nose in Felicity's direction, but Felicity didn't let it phase her. Instead, she stretched her smile knowing it would piss of Isabel and spoke with a strained politeness that was only noticeable if you knew Felicity at all, which Isabel did not.
"Ms. Rochev," Felicity greeted, "How may I help you today?"
Isabel quirked an eyebrow, otherwise, her pinched expression remained unmoved, save for her lips as she finally began to speak.
"You may be Oliver Queen's flavor of the week, Ms. Smoak," she growled, her voice low with loathing, "But as soon as he moves on from you affinity for wearing short skirts, you'll be out on our Vegas trash." Waiting for that to sink in, but seeing the unperplexed mask that was Felicity's facial features she carried on, "In the future, I will expect one hundred percent professionalism from you while Mr. Queen and I carry about our business, which has nothing to do with your incessant need to be at the center of his attention."
Felicity felt her mask slip and if Isabel's brief amusement in her dark, brown eyes was any indication, she had seen the slack for herself, which caused Felicity to recover in record time. She forced down the growing need pull the retched woman over her desk and show her just how "Vegas trash" she could be. However, she couldn't bare the thought of losing what little time she did have with Oliver, tension included and that's what made her keep her cool, but she was Felicity Smoak, she had to get some sort of poke in there.
"I do apologize, Ms. Rochev," Felicity lied, "I was unaware that Mr. Queen had had a meeting scheduled for this morning. Next time, please forward me the scheduled meeting time and I would be happy to make all the necessary arrangement." She smiled adding, "I'll also make a note to have the conference room set up so you don't have to bend over the desk the whole time. You're too young to have back problem, you know."
If Felicity didn't know any better, by the way Isabel icy stare doubled down on her, her jaw setting in a firm grip, she might have thought she hit a nerve.
Good.
Felicity, deciding that the conversation was over, turned back to her computer and began replying to her emails, essentially dismissing Isabel and all her glowering glory. It was a risky move, a stupid, risky move, but at that precise moment, Felicity didn't care. She needed to release some of her pent up resentment and anger and so she took the chance. In truth, it was a little exhilarating, but she had to keep a firm hold on her leash because Isabel would only be pushed so far by her disrespect and even Oliver wouldn't be able to save her from her wrath.
The sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor, Felicity let her eyes fall on the retreating figure of Ms. Rochev, the anger radiating from her body in the tight set of her shoulders and the stiff movement of her legs to the executive elevators.
When she heard the slight ding of the elevator's arrival and watched as Isabel disappeared into the wall, only then did Felicity finally let her shoulders relax, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corners of her lips. Felicity-1; Isabel- 0.
Felicity relaxed against her chair, a sudden exhaustion coming over her. Going toe to toe with Isabel Rochev was always exhausting, but with everything else going on lately, Felicity felt as though she was battling all her obstacles at half capacity and that was including the sudden increase of coffee she was inhaling on a daily basis.
Thinking that today would be a great day to go home early, giving her time to pamper herself before Oliver came home and the tense atmosphere returned, she swiveled in her chair to tell him that she was leaving, but she stopped in place when she once again found her in a stare off with the very man in question.
His eyes held her's, trapped in their grasp and they spoke of something like concern, but what she also saw in them was a little bit condescending, probably for the little spat she had with Isabel. There was no way he could have heard her brief interaction with her, but if he'd seen the look on Isabel's face or the way that she stormed towards the elevator, it wasn't going to be very difficult to figure out the direction their interaction had taken.
The fact that she felt like he was chastising her like a parent would an adult, sent Felicity spiraling back into her fowl mood from before, feeling her eyes narrow against his. A slight wave of concern flashed into his eyes before he briefly shook his head in defeat and turned his head down towards the papers that Isabel must have given him to sign.
Felicity knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't help being pissed off at Oliver for seemingly reprimanding her for, essentially she thought, standing up for herself to Isabel Rochev.
Felicity jerked in her seat, her thoughts immediately vacating her mind, when a ringing sound came through the blue tooth speaker in her ear. She briefly looked at the caller ID on the desk next to her and recognized the number, immediately. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her breathing and hoped her voice didn't give away any of the 2.7 billion emotions running through her being at that given moment.
"Thea," Felicity greeted cheerfully, hoping the forced cheerfulness in her voice sounded more genuine to the young woman on the end of the phone than it did to her own ears, "What can I do for you?"
"Hey, Felicity," came Thea's chipper voice, clearly not sensing anything unnatural about Felicity's strained tone. Thank god. "I was wondering if my endearing older brother was in his office. I was wanting to take him out for lunch today if he wasn't too busy."
Felicity turned her head to look once more at the man who was both her whole world and the bane of her existence at the moment, steadying him as he was heavily engrossed in the documents before him.
When she remembered that Thea as still on the other line, she quickly cleared her throat and replied.
"Yes, of course he's here," she said, "You have impeccable timing, Thea, he just finished a rather arousing impromptu meeting with Ms. Rochev. I'm sure he'd love to eat lunch and tell you all about it."
"Uh, okay," Thea's unsure voice said through the speaker. Felicity had to pinch the bridge of her nose. Why couldn't she ever just keep her mouth closed? Had she done something in a former life that warranted such a curse? She made a mental note to research curses and how to rid yourself of one and quickly.
"I'm sorry, Thea," she moaned, "I'm just not in the best of moods today and Ms. Rochev is not exactly my biggest supporter, unless Vegas Trash is the newest term of endearment."
"I hate that bitch so much," Thea commented as if she were talking about the weather with stranger, "Ignore her, I do." If only it were that easy.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Thea's question permeated the brief silence between the two females and Felicity had to think long and hard about her decision. She love Thea, thinking of her as the little sister she never knew she needed or wanted, but even though she desperately needed someone to vent to about this mess of a situation with Oliver, using his baby sister as a sounding board didn't really sound like a good idea.
"Lets just say that Oliver and I are trying to figure things out at the moment," she began, knowing that the younger Queen sibling would only let her go if she gave her something. Like her brother, she was both persistent and stubborn. She thought about her wording before continuing, "I'm concerned that if things keep developing the way they have been, we may find ourselves even farther apart than we were before."
"What did my brother do?" Thea asked, the exasperated sigh clear in her voice.
"Besides be his regular, stubborn, Neanderthal self," she joked, glancing at the man himself through the glass wall again, she would never get tired of looking at him, she thought, "He's done nothing Thea; I just think we're both too stubborn and independent to let the other in without the fear of losing control. We've both been hurt in the past and we don't want to lose ourselves again. I know I couldn't survive that again. Perhaps Oliver could, he's stronger than I am."
"Oh Felicity," Thea's voice whispered, "My brother adores you. You. I've never seen him so genuinely happy and that's because of you. Yes, Ollie is as stubborn as they come and his temper has been known to get him into a few tough spots," she pausd at this, most likely thinking of all those "tough spots" and how much it must have cost the family. Felicity smiled, feeling thankful that she came into Oliver's life at a time where she got to see the real him, not just the outer, playboy shell he had been before the island. Sure, he went through unspeakable hell to become the man he was today, but she loved that man, more than anything else in the world.
Thea's voice brought her back the present, her words picking up as if there hadn't been a lull in the conversation, "Sometimes Ollie just needs someone else to take control and show him what he has to lose."
Felicity felt a tug at the corner's of her mouth as an idea slithered across her mind. It was a risky move, but wasn't that just par for the course today?
"Thea," felicity spoke into the Bluetooth, grabbing the other girl's attention, "Do you mind giving me ten minutes with him before you make your entrance. There's some things I need to discuss with him first."
If Felicity wasn't mistaken, there was a brief snort on the other side of her of the speaker in her ear, relaying Thea's willingness to wait before she added, "But make it fast Ms. Smoak. Ms. Chai only serves her homemade Tai noodles until there all gone and it's already quarter after noon!"
Felicity promised to make it a speedy discussion before hanging up the call and removing the blue tooth speaker before placing it on the cool glass of her desk.
Quickly rerouting all calls to be picked up by voicemail and her email alerts to be silenced, Felicity finally gathered up the courage to put her plan into motion. She was going into the lion's den and she knew how dangerous that could be, especially when she felt like the taunting, little lamb.
Before she took a step towards the glass door leading into his office, Felicity ran her hands down her black, pencil skirts, smoothing the edges, making sure all the wrinkles from sitting at her desk were gone before she focused on her pink blouse. Satisfied that she looked presentable, Felicity straightened her shoulder and made her way to the door.
Opening the door slowly, as to not disturb the bent head over the desk, Felicity allowed herself to step over the threshold relatively silently, even her own heels clicking quietly against the floor. However, she knew that Oliver could sense her entrance into his domain, it was a thing between them, had been since day one. They were always very aware of where the other was at all times. Most of the time it was comforting, but as of lately, it had almost felt like a curse. But today, she wanted to use it to her advantage, so she let herself lean against the now closed door waiting for him to acknowledge her presence.
When she waited for a minute, Oliver giving her no sign of intending to at least look up at her, Felicity decided to force his attention to her. She slowly raised her left hand, letting it rest on a small switch just a foot away from the door, pulling down slowly turning the office space darker as the windows and glass walls tinted until they formed one-way mirrors.
Felicity watched mesmerized as the slight shift in the room's lighting made the atmosphere feel softer, almost darker in a sense, but it had succeeded in fulfilling its task as she watched Oliver's head slowly rose from his desk, his beautiful eyes finding her's. She was pleased when his look of slight confusion turned into acute interest in her actions and she smiled at him. Didn't say a word just smiled, allowing herself to push off from the door now that she had his attention and could carry on.
"Felicity?" he asked, no doubt seeing the mischievous look in her eyes as she sauntered closer to his desk, "What are you—"
He stopped immediately when his eyes followed her hands coming to her blouse, starting to unbutton them one by one as she swung her hips lazily, bringing her closer to his desk. She slowly so the realization of her attempt at seduction over him and the subsequent smirk across his face. She almost chastised him for being so cocky so early in their interaction, but she allowed him to think whatever he wanted, she knew she was in control here as his dilating pupils and slight hitch in his breathing confirmed. She had him ensnared.
Rounding the desk corner as she undid the last button along her shirt, Felicity didn't remove her gaze from his as she slowly pulled off the blouse from her arms, baring her almost naked torso to her burning gaze. She felt his eyes take her in, his eyes leaving trails of fire in their wake that nearly had her melting at his feet, but she stood her ground and let him peruse to his fill, waiting for his eyes to find her's again.
Oliver turned his chair slowly so that his body was fully facing her, the tenting in his gray slacks painfully obvious of his budding arousal and if she noticed the way his tongue flicked across his lips subconsciously, she didn't mention it.
Instead, she let her own eyes peruse the very male figure in front of her. Noticing the way his white shirt clung to the muscles along his chest and abdomen, making every feminine instinct cry out to her, begging her to run her hands up and down those ridges that she knew so well, but she kept her hands to herself, for the time being.
Her eyes came to rest on the rather pointed figure in the room and she couldn't help the smirk that settled on her lips as she glanced into the half hooded eyes of the man before her. She was answered with his own smirk and an eyebrow ticking up as if asking her if she had expecting anything else to happen.
"Is that for me, Mr. Queen," she asked conversationally, letting her eyes peruse the stiff member nearly poking a hole through the man's pants, hoping that her casual perusal seemed as aloof as she wanted it to be. She wanted to appear unaffected and maybe a little disinterested, but she knew better than that and so did she, it was pointless to fake him out. Still she had to try, what would be the fun if she made it too easy.
"It'll only ever be for you, baby," he gruffed, his eyes raking up her form once again. She reveled in his pure appreciation of her form, but a nagging thought passed over her brain and before she thought better of it, it came rushing out.
"Are you sure because other leggier models may hold more weight around here if your earlier flirtation with Ms. Rochev was any indication," she muttered.
"Felicity," he growled her name, "You're better than that."
He was right and she knew it, making her deflate a bit, reconsidering her plan all together. What she really needed was a pint of mint chocolate chip, a glass of wine and apparently a round or two with her vibrator if Oliver didn't stop looking at her like that. Why was she always barreling into these situations half cocked. She had to work on her self control, especially around certain CEOs, although, obviously for different reasons.
"Maybe," she finally answered, feeling an uncertainty creeping up through her spine. She closed off her posture to him, bringing her arms around her chest, her eyes looking at a place just behind him as she chewed on her lower lip, lost in thought.
"You're being ridiculous," Oliver muttered, his eyes not living her's for a second.
"Maybe," Felicity repeated, but this time her tone was detached and cast his statement to the side, not wanting to give it a second thought because if she did, she'd realize he was completely right and this wasn't about him, it was about her getting what she needed to remind him of.
Getting her mind back to its original task, Felicity physically relaxed her shoulder allowing a soft smile to form on her face. She knew that in order to get what she wanted, she would have to give a little in return.
She stepped up to his chair, so close that she felt zaps of energy the moment her knees gently brushed against his nearly making her fall to the ground as the shivers cascaded down her legs.
Slowly, Felicity felt the bottom hem of her skirt underneath her fingertips and began to raise the fabric slowly over her thighs, but was apparently going to slowly and felt two masculine hands around her's, guiding them up at a quicker pace.
In a flash of movement, she swatted those delicious hands, their abscense on her skin leaving tingles of pleasure in their wake, but she kept her eyes narrowed and stern against the offender.
"No, Mr. Queen," she said, faking a chastising tone, "You don't get to touch today." She thought about it for a brief second her smile widening, "Not for another two weeks anyway."
She heard the growl emanating from his chest and chose to ignore the desperate call within her to embrace it and throw herself at her mate. Instead, she chose to go back to the tantalizing task of raising her skirt slowly for his perusal as her white, unmarked flesh came into view. When she was satisfied with its height, Felicity slowly lowered herself down onto Oliver's hips, the both of them hissing between their teeth when his erect penis brushed against the sensitive tip of her entrance.
Oliver's hips bucked upwards, nearly sending her toppling into his chest, but she caught herself by squeezing his legs with her thighs, just barely stifling a moan as his member dug even further against her entrance. She had to muffle the barely restrained moan with a cough and if she heard the distinct snort of amusement from the very male body beneath her, she didn't say.
Felicity felt two hands encase her small waist, hoisting her further into his lap and she covered her next moan with a growl, wrapping her small hands around his.
Prying his grip from her waist, Felicity hoped that her message was loud and clear: she didn't want Oliver touching her at the moment. She watched as Oliver's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he allowed her to forcibly remove his hands from around her. She knew that he was only doing this because a part of him was intrigued in whatever game she was play, but she also knew that if he really wanted to keep his hands wrapped around her then there would be little she could do about it.
Sensing that Oliver's resolve was rapidly dwindling, Felicity decided that she needed to move with haste. Silently, she brought her hands to his throat and carefully started to unbutton his shirt, keeping her eyes away from him as she knew the intensity of his eyes would render her useless. Suffice it to say, it didn't spare her the white, hot burning she felt as his eyes feasted on her body on top of him. She had to really concentrate on her task or the sheer force of his gaze would have her trembling all over.
Having finally loosened the last button, Felicity was able to push back his dress shirt against his shoulders so that his bare chest was open to her perusal. His body was like that of a greek god, his abdominal muscles standing rigid against otherwise smooth skin, save for the scars that littered around his skin.
There was a time that Oliver would have quickly covered himself if one of his scars was visible, but now he showed them with barely a flinch as she traced their lines with her fingers. She hated how they had gotten on his skin, the fear and torture that he must have went through made her sad for the young man who had endured so much, but she couldn't help but be grateful that Oliver had used this experience to turn himself into a man, a man that was doing some good in the world. Not very many people have the opportunity to really change things around them, not because there isn't an opportunity, but perhaps because we lack the motivation or the courage to do so.
She didn't see a victim when she looked at his scars, but a survivor. He had survived hell and came back a better human being for it and she couldn't wish away that, no matter how much she hated what he had been put through. She loved him and without his experiences that placed those scars over his chest, she may have never met him, never had the opportunity to fight the good fight and she would have never had the opportunity to fall madly and deeply in love with him.
Still, she never missed an opportunity to bust his chops, especially after his flirty-flirt with Isabel Rochev earlier. Okay, so maybe he wasn't flirting, persay, but did he really have to smile at her? The woman is basically the she-Devil in insanely expensive high heeled shoes!
With Isabel Rochev on the mind, Felicity found that she desperately wanted to personally cleanse Oliver of her presence. Who knows what kind of evil germs she could have bestowed on him while they conversed in his office.
Letting her instinct and need guide her, Felicity finally allowed her lips graze against the skin that was marked with his Bratva tattoo. When her lips met his warm, soft skin, she had to physically restrain the moan that threatened to overwhelm her. He felt so good under her lips as she placed another kiss along his breast bone, smiling when she felt his chest rise as he inhaled deeply. His exhale sounded like a low moan and she couldn't help but to turn her head up towards him, wanting to see his beautiful face as she lavished him with her attention.
She saw that his eyes were closed and decided that she wanted them open and on her, but how was she going to force them open? An idea sparking in her head, Felicity lowered her mouth once again to the smooth flesh of his left pectoral, lightly clamping down on the skin between her teeth.
The effect was instantaneous, Oliver gasped, his hips driving her upwards and his hands rising to touch her shoulders, pulling her closer against his chest.
Felicity instantly stood up, her eyes glaring condescendingly down at him over her glasses, his eyes reflecting his barely restrained hunger for her and a certain dare in them. He knew that he had broken the no contact rule; he just didn't think that she would follow through with the consequences.
Deciding to fake indifference to his now roaming hands against her upper arms, Felicity began fiddling with the tie around his neck. Her fingers worked the not at the front of his neck, her eyes never leaving her task. The both kept busy with their tasks, falling into a familiar silence that made Felicity's chest ache, but she would pine over that later, right now, she had to keep a clear head. She needed to end the silence, now.
"For a man who's been trained to withstand unspeakable torture, you sure seem to be lacking in the discipline to keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Queen," she spoke conversationally, flicking her eyes to his. He was watching the movement of his fingertips as they ghosted over her chest, dangerously close to the tops of her breasts, her skin pebbling with goosebumps in their wake.
His eyes finally rested on her's, his fingers still tracing little patterns along her neck and chest, a sort of soothing feeling that released little electrical currents of there own.
"You have no idea the self discipline I have been enduring this past few weeks, sweetheart," he said, his voice deep and laced with something else that she'd rather not think about, that was too dangerous.
"Hmm," she murmured, unwilling to run down the rabbit hole his eyes were begging her to follow him into, "Let me help you regain a little bit of that lost self control then a few moments ago."
When a brief moment of curiosity flashed behind his eyes, Felicity smiled, pulling the now loose tie from around his neck and said, "Hands behind your back, Mr. Queen."
Oliver's left corner of his mouth ticked up into a smirk, but he complied with her demand, not missing the opportunity to slowly drag his roughened finger tips down her torso, his eyes watching for any signs of weakness. However, she was ready for him and this game of chicken he always loved to play. She grew up in Vegas of all places; her poker face was legendary.
Never letting her eyes leave his until his hands were behind his back, Felicity allowed her body to rub against his, her hardened nipples digging into his firm pectoral muscles, as she securely fastened the tie around his wrists, using her knowledge of knots from her former days as a Daisy Scout to aid her in tying a simple, quick release knot.
When she was satisfied with the effectiveness of the knot, Felicity turned inward, burying her nose into the crook of his next and inhaling his scent. She loved the way he smelled, like sandalwood, pine and something decidedly male, decidedly Oliver.
Lifting her head just enough to bring her lips just outside her ear, Felicity made sure that her voice dripped with an erotic authority, "I'm not above dealing out the consequences when you don't follow my rules, Mr. Queen." She decided to have a little fun and ran her tongue along the outer shell of his ear, releasing a moan from the man beneath her.
Felicity's eyes trailed the raising flesh beneath her, running down his long neck, across his shoulders and disappearing beneath the white shirt still covering his back. She lowered her lips to the sensitive flesh between his neck and shoulder, powerless to pass up an opportunity to lavish the corded muscle of his neck with her attention. The response was instantaneous as she was nearly jerked off his lap as his hips thrust upwards.
Felicity quickly thanked her sharp reflexes as her legs gripped his thighs, steadying herself on his lap, but then quickly cursed them as it brought back into focus the very real, large shaft pressing further and further into her own moistening panties, the only barrier between him and her wetness.
"If you don't let me fuck you right now, sweetheart," he growled, slowly moving his hips beneath her, "I won't be responsible for my actions."
"Is that right?" Felicity asked, a little curiosity in her own voice.
Oliver looked at her, his patented Queen smile in full swing, "What to stop me from ripping this tie to shreds and throwing you against my desk right now?"
Felicity swallowed against the intensity in his eyes, this plan was unreliable at best, the power switching from one to another like a tennis match and it was leaving her dizzy. She couldn't let him win, not when she could physically feel that she was close to her intended goal.
Clearing her throat, Felicity narrowed her eyes mockingly, "Mr. Queen, office romances are highly inappropriate, especially between a CEO such as yourself and a lowly executive assistant, like myself. What would Ms. Rochev think?"
Oliver quirked an eyebrow as he stared into her eyes, not buying her obvious bull shit, "I didn't realize you held Isabel's opinion of your professional life, least of all your personal life, in such high regards."
"I don't," she snapped before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She didn't want to ruin the mood by brining Ms. Rochev into the mix, she definitely didn't belong in the middle of her and Oliver, especially when they were playing this very dangerous game. She needed to change tactics.
Dragging her hands from where they were resting on the nape of his neck, allowing them to sweep down his chiseled chest, she thought about what she was going to say next. She stopped when her hands came to rest atop his belt buckle, her eyes returning to his once more.
"You may have noticed that I talk a lot," she said, albeit a bit shyly, knowing that her lack of brain-to-mouth filter was one of her biggest character flaws.
"It has not escaped my attention," Oliver forced out, his teeth clenched as he felt her small, hot hands reach into his now loosened slacks, gripping his shaft in her hand. She pulled the thick, erect appendage from its confines, watching as it bounced within her grasp.
"You might have noticed that I talk a lot," she said, conversationally, dragging her hands from his neck where they were resting and down his abdomen, only stopping when her hand was directly over his belt buckle.
"Felicity," he warned, his eyes telling her that he was on the very edge of his leash and that their would be holy Hell to pay.
Ignoring his clear warning, Felicity decided to make her counter move.
"Perhaps," she stated while slowly stroking his cock between her fingers, "It's time you carried on the conversation while I simply jerk you off."
Oliver just stared at her, his pupil dilating so that the blue of his eyes was almost swallowed whole. She knew that this new side of her was throwing him for a loop and she desperately wanted to throw her fist up in a victory pump, but she knew that would just be awkward and possibly break her spell over him.
When she tilted her head, silently asking if he was up for the job, she watched, amusingly, as he swallowed, his throat muscles bouncing smoothly up and down his neck.
"You know I'm not—oh god," his voice cracked on the last phrase when he felt Felicity fingers lightly brush around his scrotum, his powerful thighs beneath her trembling with pleasure. He took a deep breath, his eyes half lidded as he laid his head back against the headrest of his office chair, "I'm not good at making small talk."
Felicity smiled, he was right. Oliver Queen was a horrible small talker, but that was okay, she wanted specifics from him and this was the perfect time to get her answers, well more like confessions. Who knew when the next time she would literally and figuratively have him by the balls and have the necessary leverage to get what she wanted?
"I want to know how it feels to have my hand surrounding your cock Mr. Queen. Do your insides ignite with the same lust and passion that your eyes portray when I let my fingers brush against the smooth skin of your penis?" she asked, her own voice whispering in an octave lower than what she was used to, "Tell me, Mr. Queen, how does it feel?"
"Oh god, Felicity," he groaned as he felt her squeeze his balls in her hand, pulling them down and rolling the balls between her thin, soft fingers, "You feel so fucking perfect, so fucking good."
"Good boy," she crooned running her thumb over the head of his penis, smoothing the precum around the tip, "Don't ever forget how good it feels to have me, Mr. Queen. I am a gift, one that you're lucky to have."
"God," he whimpered, "So lucky, baby." His voice came in between heavy pants and she didn't miss the way his hips were jerking erratically beneath her, signaling a imminent climax. She needed to move this along, what was the time?
"I may be useful as your executive secretary or as Overwatch, Oliver," she whispered against his ear, "But I'm invaluable as a woman, a partner, a lover. Never forget that."
Bringing her head back to look at him, wanting to see her excellent work before her, she saw the way the skin on his neck prickled with her words and knew she'd gotten to him. Feeling the need to give him the release he wanted, she increased the strokes of her hand around his penis, gripping him harder with her fingers.
"Yes, that's it baby, just like that," he panted, his eyes squeezing shut as he hurtled towards the finish, "I'm so fucking close."
"Let go, Oliver," she encouraged, "Let—"
"Ollie?"
Oh frak! Thea. By the sound of her voice, she was close. Too close.
Felicity stilled, her mind whirling as it throttled to a stop, her hand still wrapped around Oliver's cock. When she looked down into his eyes, she saw the clear warning in his eyes.
"Don't you dare leave me like this, Felicity," he warned, "Finish it."
Felicity smirked, pulling her wet, sticky hand from his groin and carefully slide off his lap.
"You're not the only one who can play dirty, Oliver," she said, turning to search for her blouse. She had to bite the inside of her cheek from full on laughing.
"Felicity," she heard Oliver growl as she picked up her shirt, wrapping it around her shoulders just as Thea came around the corner, nearly at the office door.
Felicity turned to Oliver, her eyes glancing at his disheveled appearance and couldn't help the smirk pulling at her lips.
"Oliver, you may want to scoot a bit closer to the desk, honey," she smiled innocently at him, "You're a little indecent at the moment and I would hate to have to pay for your baby sister's intensive therapy sessions should she see her big brother like this."
Oliver was cut off from replying (thank god) when said baby sister came bursting through his office doors like the mini hurricane she was. She had a bright smile on her face, which suddenly disappeared from her face as she took in the scene next to her. Her eyes grew big as her eyes went from Felicity's half naked form, to her brother's figure, her eyebrow hitching when she saw him scoot towards the desk.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, a knowing smile on her face as she glanced between them.
"No."
"Yes."
"I see," Thea said, unable to hide the snicker afterwards.
"Well, I'll just be going," Felicity said, spinning on her heal crossing the room to the door separating her from her freedom in record time. Once she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder at the deliciously agitated man sitting behind his desk and smiled, "I'll be taking the rest of the day off, Mr. Queen. I've decided to use a personal day after all."
"I would probably scoot closer to the desk, Oliver," she pointed out, "There's no need to traumatize your poor, unsuspecting sister."
"I'll see you at home, Ms. Smoak," she heard him call out behind her, the dark promise and all that came with it heavy in his tone just before she opened the door enough to shuffle through to her escape. She stopped just under the frame, half of her still in the office, while the other half stood outside, knowing that he wasn't done yet. She braced herself, the backs of her hairs standing on edge with his last spoken words, at the door, "and don't think for a second that this particular conversation is over. There's still plenty left unsaid."
A small smile of victory came over her as she pushed passed the door. As she made her way to her desk to collect her belongings, she quickly made her way to the elevator, but not before hearing Thea Queen's voice behind the cracked door.
"You've finally met your match, brother, and I think I couldn't be happier for you."