The only way Oliver dances (ihatethatchick)

His fingers sink into her, again and again, while his lips and tongue work over her clit, ensuring she gets all the stimulation she needs in order to send her over the edge. It's something Oliver excels at, getting Felicity to come multiple times before he allows himself the pleasure of release. Tonight is a typical night for them, one where he spends hours worshiping her body, touching her gently at first before becoming rougher and rougher as the night progresses and she becomes less sensitive.

One the verge of a third orgasm, Felicity's body begins to tremble. He knows what that means and doesn't let up. Instead, he goes faster. Oliver feels her fingers sink into the back of his skull, holding onto his head for dear life as her cries become louder and louder. It's the sweetest sound in the world, her voice wailing out his name as her hips buck against his fingers and mouth, seeking out the pleasure she so desperately needs in order to achieve orgasm. He readily gives it to her, adding a third finger, stretching her walls as she screams.

Curling his fingers, Oliver presses against her g-spot. It's her trigger, the little button that suddenly sends Felicity careening over the edge with a gasp and a sob. Her back arches off the bed as she plants her feet on the mattress, her hand pushing his head away from her over-sensitive apex. He pulls back, giving her the space she needs to calm down while his hands caress the tops of her things in gentle circles.

"Fuck, Oliver," she shudders, her body limply falling back into bed as he smiles down at her. "Don't look so smug," Felicity warns, glaring at him from beneath hooded eyes.

"I'm not being smug," Oliver retorts before crawling on top of her, his lips blazing a trail from her navel to her lips. There's no doubt she can taste herself on his tongue as he swirls it around her mouth. She's tugging him close again, forcing his body to lay on top of hers as she seeks out skin-to-skin contact.

Soft fingertips trail down his spine until they come to rest on his ass. Then Felicity squeezes and he groans against her lips. His hips thrust forward, his rock-hard cock brushing over her sex and making her moan. Although she's still recovering from her last orgasm, Oliver can tell she's not ready to call it a night. Not yet. She's got one more round left in her and they're both determined to make the most of it.

"Oliver," she murmurs into his ear as his mouth travels down her throat, stopping only when it reaches her collarbone. He laves it with his tongue, making her moan again, then bites down. Felicity's body arches into his as she hisses in pain and pleasure. Her fingers squeeze his ass again and he takes the hint, but he doesn't do as she silently asks.

"What do you want, Felicity?" His mouth hovers over her right breasts, huffing warm breaths over her nipple and watching it pebble beneath his ministrations.

Her eyes lock onto his as she answers, "Fuck me, Oliver. Fuck me hard."

A half smile appears on his face and he dives down, his mouth enveloping her breast and giving it a good suckle before he lets go of it with a loud, wet plop. When Oliver looks up a moment later, her eyes are squeezed shut as she bites her lower lip. He takes advantage of her distracted state and thrusts into her just as she asked.

The little eep he hears escape from her throat makes him look down at her. Felicity's eyes are wide open now, her mouth hanging open as he pulls back and thrusts in again, harder this time, nearly making the bed shake with the force of his hips. She gasps and Oliver can't help the smile that crawls onto his lips. He loves surprising her in bed, especially when she says such dirty things.

They go at it for a good half hour, Felicity meeting Oliver thrust for thrust until they're both nearing the edge in unison. That's when he grabs her ankle, throwing her leg over his shoulder to change position. It deepens his thrusts, causing her to cry out even louder now as her other leg wraps around his back. But that's not the only trick he has up his sleeve. His fingers find her clit and he's over.

Two more thrusts are all it takes to send Felicity crying over the edge again, but this time, Oliver follows as her walls clench around his aching cock, milking him until there's nothing left. His head falls into the crook of her neck. They lay there, breathless and panting, completely spent after a night full of intense lovemaking. He rolls off a few moments later and she whimpers. It isn't long before his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his chest, and she snuggles into the warmth of his embrace, her eyes already closed.

Sleep comes fast and easy in this comfortable little cocoon they've made for themselves. Oliver is content to stay in this bubble for the rest of his life, so when he awakes the next morning to find her side of the bed empty, he frowns. It doesn't take him long to figure out where she is, though. The faint strands of a song he doesn't know leads his eyes to fall upon the bathroom door. It's open just a crack, but he can see the outline of Felicity's body pressed up against the vanity as she stares at herself in the mirror.

A warm smile appears on his face as he pushes the covers to the center of the bed and gets up. Oliver slowly makes his way over, pushing the door open as to not startle her. The music he heard earlier now envelops him and he's surprised to find Felicity is listening to country. There have been a few times her taste in music has come up as a topic of conversation, and the answer has always been eclectic.

Still, Oliver pauses to simply listen to the tune as she gazes at him from over her shoulder with a smile.

"Love's never come my way/I've never been this far/But you took these two left feet/And waltzed away with my heart…"

The lyrics hit him square in the chest and he feels his throat close up because they describe what it's like being with Felicity. Before he knows it, he's reaching out for her hand and is surprised that she gives it to him so easily. Oliver pulls her out of the bathroom, leaving the door open so the music follows them into the bedroom.

His right arm wraps around her waist while the left takes hold of the other one, positioning them in the perfect waltz position. Then, he begins to move.

"No, I don't dance, but here I am/Spinning you round and round in circles/It ain't my style, but I don't care/I'd do anything with you anywhere/Guess you got me in the palm of your hand, girl/Cause, I don't dance..."

Felicity's head finds its way under his chin as her eyes flutter shut. They slowly sway to the music, their arms wrapped around each other as she hums the tune under her breath. Oliver feels it through his chest and finds his cheek falling against the top of her head. His eyes close, allowing him to focus on the lyrics once more.

The chorus plays twice more before the song ends. Another one begins, but they're still wrapped around each other, holding one another as close as physically possible. Felicity's ear rests against his heart, listening to it beat slowly and surely. He doesn't want this moment to end, but then she's pulling away, her eyes meeting his as a soft smile touches her lips.

"I thought Oliver Queen didn't dance," she points out, reminding him of all the times she'd overheard those words come out of his mouth.

Oliver can't help but smile down at her. "I don't," he answers, "but I will for you." He can see the tears that threaten to slip down Felicity's cheeks. The sentiment hits him as well because she's right, Oliver Queen doesn't dance, no matter how many years his mother forced him to take lessons, but if Felicity Smoak asks, he'll do it, gladly.